


The Games We Play

by MaLady335



Series: DS9: Vorta and Jem'Hadar leave the Dominion AU [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Abuse, Angst and Porn, BDSM, Dubious Consent, Erotic Horror, Erotic Thriller, Fix-It of Sorts, Grooming, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Isolation, Loneliness, M/M, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Master/Pet, Memory Loss, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Canon Compliant, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Physical Abuse, Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Guilt, Self-Hatred, Serial Abuser, Sexual Abuse, Slavery, Some tags are chapter specific, Strangulation, Victim Blaming, Violent Sex, dukat/keevan is rarely shown, graphic physical abuse, masking abuse as play, religious OCD, single sex Vorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26911141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaLady335/pseuds/MaLady335
Summary: Weyoun likes games and he likes to think he's figured out how to play them. But Dukat's favorite is one he's constructed and has played for decades. With memories of his past self missing Weyoun finds himself thrust into a fate he never imagined the Founders would inflict on any Vorta.
Relationships: Damar & Weyoun (Star Trek), Damar/Weyoun (Star Trek), Dukat & Weyoun (Star Trek), Dukat/Keevan (Star Trek), Dukat/Weyoun
Series: DS9: Vorta and Jem'Hadar leave the Dominion AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048642
Comments: 39
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this story I'm going off of Speculative Cardassian Reproductive Xenobiology by tinsip. Also the Vorta are single sex (same as Jem'Hadar but that's not really important to the story).
> 
> This is a dark series so I'm gonna list the tags specific for a chapter in the opening notes of the chapter. Bellow is the tags that are for the entire series.
> 
> Tags for whole series: Isolation, manipulation, manipulative relationship, dub-con, religious guilt, self hatred, loneliness, slavery, past abuse, memory loss, identity issues, master/pet, ocd, religious ocd, bdsm, pet-play, masking abuse as play, erotic thriller, erotic horror, implied/referenced rape/non-con, grooming, violent sex
> 
> Inspired by Catalyst by VortaBurnish found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757412/chapters/31616370

Memory of death was always tricky. Weyoun was reemerging from his 5th death. The first thing that came to his mind was the smile that Damar had before he started dematerializing him in the transporter. Of course his memory would not be enough evidence for proof of murder. The line of memory through generations was not perfect. And a smile was hardly proof that Damar had intentionally sabotaged his transport. Either way he was gonna have to keep a firmer watch on him in this life. 

When his eyes had opened he had expected to be back on the homeworld where all clone tubes were kept in a safe and secure location. But he wasn’t there, brow already wrinkling in confusion as he was clearly on Deep Space Nine which he very distinctly remembered being under attack which was why he was transported away.

Dukat was there waiting with an especially slimy smile. Seems he had somehow managed to keep the station and no doubt he would have to listen to his gloating about it for who knows how long. There was also Keevan and a Founder, his Founder as he often thought of them.

“Weyoun there is much you must be informed of.” Keevan approached him, his expression very smug. What could he possibly be so pleased with? Last he had heard Keevan was being held captive by the Federation.

It was customary for a fellow Vorta to assist in the emergence of a new form however Keevan did not hold out his hand. In fact he took a step back when Weyoun turned to him, this enraged Weyoun beyond all things. How dare Keevan reject him so, he was a Vorta and deserved the basic respect of a Vorta. That acknowledgment of the pain of a new generation, something unique to them, besides the fact he was higher ranking than Keevan. Unfortunately for Weyoun it would take several more minutes before he would be able to speak. A new brain needed some time to adjust to the information it had been dumped with and the body it had never used before. Instead Dukat of all people came and pulled him out by the arm much to fast and harshly. His elbow hitting the side and his ankle colliding with the bottom edge. If Weyoun had it in him at the time he would have yelled at him for such disrespect.

“Due to the crimes of your predecessor..” Weyoun gave a baffled expression as he tried to stand. Dukat’s arm was still gripping him with a firm hold as he dragged Weyoun to dangle next to him. What crimes? Weyoun 5 had been excellent in his work, unless. His head felt lighter as the memories of his...improprieties hit him. Dukat had always been unsubtle but he had never expected him to out him like this.

Keevan kept talking, “You Weyoun 7 will be the last of your line.” Weyoun 7? He should be the 6th. “Your betrayal of the Dominion and rejection of the Founders have stripped you of all title and your recognition as a Vorta.” WHAT? “You have been spared this last form due to Gul Dukat taking legal ownership of you. You have been stripped of the memories of your traitorous last incarnation as a gift for your 5 previous generations of hard work. This will be the last I or any other Vorta shall address you.” Weyoun was frozen, his mind felt like it was sinking into a black pool of sludge.

“You will not be acknowledged as having any connection to the Dominion or the Founders from this moment. I will be taking on your previous role of Ambassador and you are to remain as the property of Gul Dukat. Should you attempt to get into contact with the Federation you will be destroyed, if you flee you will be destroyed, if Gul Dukat is displeased with you he is allowed to dispose of you as he see’s fit.” This doesn’t make sense this can’t be right? Weyoun’s ankles would not hold his weight and throbbed where they had struck the tube. On average it took a Vorta 15 to 30 minutes to have full function over a new body. Dukat seemed to be pulling on his arm as if trying to get him to stand.

Keevan’s speech seemed to embolden Dukat. That or seeing Weyoun’s response, “Now goodbye Weyoun. May your future be of value.” And with that Keevan turned to the Founder...no longer his Founder. 

They didn’t even look at him they just walked out with Keevan behind them and the Jem'Hadar guards at their heels. He was now lower than even mine laborers. At least they were Dominion property, serving a greater purpose. What was he now? He couldn’t even speak yet? He had lost everything without even having the ability to plead or protest.

“Let’s get you in some clothes hm?” Dukat said with such a chipper tone, his other hand grabbing his other arm to lift him up. 

Weyoun was still wet with the tank fluid. Dukat pulled him to his chest to lean on the cool metal for support. Weyoun was swimming within a sea of anger and denial. This must be a mistake? Dukat grabbed a towel and begun to dry him off. There must have been a mix-up? Weyoun would never betray the Founders, his files must have been confused for Keevan’s. That’s it any moment they’ll realize their mistake and come back for him.

Dukat went about drying him, completely unaware or uncaring of his internal struggle. It was as the strength was reaching his legs and he was finally able to stand while leaning on Dukat that it settled in his mind and heart that they were not coming back for him. Weyoun stared at the door, praying to see it open even as he knew it wouldn’t. His vision grew blurry but he kept on staring. 

Dukat was helping him dress, like a child. Vorta were to dress themselves when they were able, they were respected as adults not manipulated like children. Though he was no longer a Vorta. What did that make him now? Dukat went about this with a practiced ease. Weyoun had no interest in Dukat outside of their work and...private relationship but he recalled he had almost 10 children. He went about dressing him almost mechanically. Weyoun didn’t like it. The clothes were different. They weren’t of Vorta design, it looked Cardassian with it’s dull color palette and neckline. He payed little interest to Dukat as he helped him into socks and underwear but he stood and forced him to look at him as he blocked his view of the door when he got him into some pants.

Weyoun hummed slightly in his throat as he gained use of his vocal cords. His tongue still felt like dead weight but in a few more minutes he’d be able to move it and then speak with a slight lisp till he fully had a grasp on this new body, his last body. With the hum Dukat reached and grasped the back of his neck. Pulling him away from leaning on his chest. His claws grazing the back of his head as he manipulated him to look up at him. Dukat whipped at his cheeks with his other hand. When did they get so wet?

“It’d be best to not dwell on such things.” Was all he said before pulling a shirt over his head. 

What things? As if Dukat would even know. The man was rash and a fool at the best of times. Dukat kneeled to put him in some shoes causing Weyoun to almost lose his balance but managing to catch himself at the last minute with the flat of his hands on Dukat’s back. The harsh texture of his armor grated against the soft flesh of his palms. Standing back up too quickly he almost cracked Weyoun in the jaw with his skull. Dukat held him out at arms length for a moment looking him over.

“It’ll do for now.” He didn’t seem to be saying it too him. 

Just because he couldn’t speak yet didn’t mean he couldn’t hear him. Dukat lifted him to carry him with an arm at his back and the other under his knees. Bridal style he believed was the human term for this type of carrying. A pleased look on Dukat’s face when he looked down at him. His eyes took on a harsher look as he absorbed Weyoun’s expression. What did he look like right now? What did he even feel like right now? He wasn’t sure. Would he ever be certain of anything again?

Dukat carried him out of whatever room they were in, it didn’t matter. The Jem'Hadar in the halls all stared at him, a rare site. A fallen Vorta...well no longer a Vorta. It’s how they managed to accept his continued life. The Vorta served the Founders and if they didn’t then they were not a Vorta. Weyoun didn’t fault the Jem'Hadar for their stares or no doubt disgust for him. It was the Cardassian stares and looks he was already finding hard to bare. 

Did the whole station know? Before even he did? The looks he received were all ones he had never expected to be aimed at him. Like he was an object to be envied. The Founders didn’t treasure or covet things like solids did so even their ownership of several species for the specific purpose of conquest lacked greed. Greed was a sin of solids and solids was now the universe he would be trapped in indefinitely. Never to be graced in the rare praise of well done work but instead an object to be owned and consumed. It filled him with disgust for the very flesh he was trapped in and still couldn’t quite move as he desired.

To be seen so vulnerable by non-Vorta was a humiliation he hadn’t thought he or any Vorta would ever receive. It was one of the few connections they had with one another, that vulnerability and protection in acknowledging something only they experience. And he was denied it. It was becoming clear that this betrayal would be one he wouldn’t be able to let go. Already it was festering under his ribs, a black, bubbling rage that would slowly fill him up. 

Weyoun’s eyes had glazed over as he stared at the ceiling which should have been familiar but he had never spent much time looking up on Terok Nor. He had always been to busy keeping his eyes down to his work. Knowing that his work, even if it killed him would be for the better of everything in the long run. Yet he wasn’t better off, this form could have been euthanized without a conscious or any awareness of it’s existence. Like his other bodies had been no doubt. This one was cursed with the knowledge and worse yet, a continued existence. An existence without a purpose. The implant was clearly gone or else it would have activated by now. He blinked when they stopped. His eyes watered as they had dried with his unblinking stare to the ceiling.

“You’re already familiar with my quarters though I did have them knock into the next room to expand a bit.” Dukat’s tone was happy. Like he couldn’t be more pleased with things. “I suspect it’ll be a few days to adjust but then things will go as you’ve always wanted.” What? Was Dukat so deluded to think he wanted this?

Setting him down on the couch Weyoun was left for a few moments. The silence was welcomed as it gave him a small reprieve. But that cool sensation couldn’t last as the loud sound of Dukat returning from his room reverberated into his ears. Weyoun refused to acknowledge him just yet. He could move his head at this point but not very well. He still had several more minutes before he’d have control and then what? What would or could he even do? Dukat directing his head up to look at him stopping that train of thought.

“I know how much you enjoyed this.” He was holding the collar, Weyoun’s collar. 

Is that what this was? Did Dukat believe that the games they had played in private were what he wanted in reality?

Weyoun glared up at him. “There just as lovely as ever.” Dukat said tightening it around his neck. 

A claw tracing the inner seam like he always did during their routine to ensure there was enough of a gap for safe use. 

Dukat let out a hot sigh, his pupils expanding. “No reason to see this as any different than before.” Was that statement for his benefit? 

By the way Dukat hadn’t stopped petting him he doubted it.

End of Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Weyoun knows when it began but he is also unsure about that certainty. They had started playing their games when a planning meeting had gone exceptionally late and Dukat had been drinking and started overtly flirting with him. Of course Weyoun doesn’t LIKE Dukat, he’s not really a man you’re allowed to just like. It’s more like you find yourself attracted to him like an asteroid to a large planetoid. You don’t necessarily LIKE being in orbit but there is a certain comfort in being held that way. Assuming you don’t get pulled too far down that you come crashing into it, becoming apart of it. Dukat had been trying to bait him into an argument about something that gets Weyoun’s feathers ruffled just to think about, the Founders.

Damar had already left to not have to hide his desire to heavily drink while Dukat was drinking more reasonably, “I’m just saying that it’s some perverse pleasure you Dominion folk get out of bending and scrapping for the Founders.”

This of course had enraged and insulted Weyoun, “Just because you go out of your way to indulge your appetites at every turn doesn’t mean everyone else is like that. The Founders are gods beyond our comprehension and deserving of our reverence.”

Dukat’s eyes held a knowing look, “Come on Weyoun. We both know you may BELIEVE that to be true but it’s not all of why you do it.” He must have been drunker than Weyoun realized because he was bold enough to pull Weyoun out of his chair and to him, “I can see it in the way you talk to the Founders. You enjoy serving them not just because you believe it to be right, but because you enjoy being their little pet solid.”

Weyoun tried to pull his arm away. He would not give that statement a response. However Dukat’s hold got harder his claws digging through the fabric of his clothing. The smug look on his face like he had just caught him was especially infuriating. Weyoun wasn’t caught, he just need to leave right now.

With a tug that was embarrassingly easy to throw him off balance Dukat finished pulling him into his lap, “There’s nothing to be ashamed about.” His tone said the opposite, “We all exaggerate the honorableness of our duties.” 

Weyoun was small, most Vorta were. But he rarely felt as such but now he felt dwarfed while in Dukat’s lap. He imagined it’s what a child would feel though he had never been one. From the first time he opened his eyes he was an adult, expected to take on adult responsibilities and duties. He felt small in a deep unsettling way but also apart of him found a strange elation in it.

Avoiding that feeling he looked away, “Not all of us are as absorbed in sugar coating our worst instincts Dukat.” He attempted to stand but arms had wrapped around him.

Vorta were not held. They never experienced a childhood, something even the Jem’Hadar had though briefly. Weyoun had almost been held once. Right before the death of his third generation a Jem'Hadar soldier had blocked him into a wall. Arms on either side of him to shield him from the inevitable explosion of the ship. This felt similarly to that. Jem'Hadar did not like the Vorta. Many Vorta feared the Jem'Hadar would destroy them given the chance. And Weyoun believed that many would, the Vorta weren’t kind to those they minded. If anything the Vorta held their upper status over them every chance they got. 

Whether the Jem'Hadar was trying to protect him doesn’t matter because that Weyoun and that Jem'Hadar soldier(his second) was dead. But he had been both deeply afraid that his second didn’t want to wait for the explosion to reach him, but also like he wanted to sink into those arms even for just a few moments. That even if his protection had been out of duty that he wanted to be bathed in it for as long as possible. Being held by Dukat felt similar. Weyoun doubted Dukat would kill him or harm him too badly, it wouldn’t go over well for their governmental cooperation. But he was afraid, even more so than when he thought his second was going to snap his spine. Because Dukat wasn’t entirely wrong, he had seen into him and found something he’d tried to smother away and was trying to pull it out of him. Yet he was desperately tired of denying this part of him and the desire to sink into the fantasy that he was safe to let it out over came his rational knowledge that Dukat was not safe, that he wasn’t trustworthy, that he was the last person to let have hold of something so deep and shameful of his.

“There we go. Isn’t that better.” Dukat breathed into his ear feeling him go slack in his hold.

The air was hotter now that DS9 was back in Cardassian hands. But Weyoun was rarely bothered by it, except for now. He was feeling too hot with Dukat’s face pressed to his own and his arms trapping him to his lap. It would be easy to lie and say that Weyoun was in shock or feeling too trapped to try and escape. And he was a bit shocked and most definitely, frighteningly trapped. But he couldn’t lie to himself as well as others because he liked Dukat holding and touching him. Dukat wanted to hold him and touch him and despite his disgust with Dukat as a person he found that being wanted overrode that.

The pressure remained the same as one hand migrated up and the other went down. When one hand reached his pelvis he spread his legs over Dukat’s. That seemed to please him as he pressed his face further into Weyoun’s, his breath wet on the short hairs behind his ear. Left hand moving up, fingers snaking into the space between Weyoun’s clothes till he reached his collarbone. Despite the crushing grip of his hand a claw gently traced along the bone. The realization that they were in the briefing room that anyone could walk in at any moment and how they were no doubt on camera hit Weyoun.

He released a shaky breath, “Let me up.” For a brief moment he felt Dukat’s hold tighten considerably, his claw digging into his skin, painfully so. The fear that he was going to be so directly disrespected washed over him before Dukat’s arms went slack allowing him to stand back up. Hands sliding over him as he moved out of their grasp.

Weyoun straightened his clothes as he stood before turning around, “This is the briefing room.” Was what he said which wasn’t what he meant to say. What he had meant to say was ‘don’t touch me’ but that never made it out for reasons Weyoun didn’t want to consider.

Dukat watched him with a slight tilt of the head and a look Weyoun wasn’t sure he liked directed at him, “Where would you rather be?” Dukat asked.

“I’m going to my quarters.” Weyoun said after a calming breath. He didn’t look back as he walked away but he could hear him, Dukat’s steps following him. While never one for subtlety Dukat seemed to be walking especially loud as if to ensure Weyoun heard him. Did Dukat already forget that Vorta have excellent hearing? It was more of a curse than anything. He could hear the thrumming of the station no matter how far he was from the core. Refusing to acknowledge him Weyoun went to his rooms. He wasn’t going to let Dukat intimidate him into having a public argument.

The door opened and he felt a hand on his shoulder turning him, “Am I joining you?” Dukat asked stepping into the doorway.

Weyoun huffed and shook off Dukat’s hand. But he didn’t say anything and didn’t do anything to stop Dukat as he followed him in. Dukat immediately sat himself on the couch like he owned it, feet on the coffee table. Weyoun’s annoyed expression only spread the smug look on Dukat’s face.

“What do you hope to achieve Dukat?” He had went to the other side of his main room. Not because he didn’t trust himself near Dukat but because he needed the space to breath.

Dukat shrugged, “A good time. Something I know you are unfamiliar with.” 

“Why would I want to give you a good time?” Weyoun gave an annoyed tone.

“Why indeed.” Dukat stated with too much certainty in his voice, as if it was so very clear why. Weyoun stormed over not realizing he didn’t know what he was gonna do till he was standing over Dukat, their legs almost brushing. But of course Dukat wasn’t intimidated.

“You don’t know anything about me.” Weyoun’s anger was growing at each assumption Dukat was making about him. 

Dukat’s look grew hard as he stared up at him, “Why don’t I fix that?” Was his only warning before Dukat grabbed him and pulled him onto the couch. 

Yet unlike in the briefing room Dukat rolled over top of him, trapping him. A hand immediately grabbing at his throat. Weyoun was hit with such a wave of helplessness that he took in a deep breath and lost himself. When he finally let the breath out and seemed to re-enter his body Dukat’s hold on his neck was firm but with no pressure while his other hand had sunk under him to press them together. Weyoun found his hands stroking at Dukat’s warmed neck ridges. Teeth grazing his ear making him rock into Dukat. A deep thrum came from Dukat’s chest at that. The sound made Weyoun freeze. Jem’Hadar only made that noise when they were truly pissed yet Dukat wasn’t trying to kill him, at least not conventionally. 

It wasn’t the being trapped under someone much larger, stronger and not deserving of an ounce of trust that caused his panicked breathing but that sound. Whether Dukat heard his whimpering breaths only matters if you care about his intent. Because he kept going and despite or possibly even because of the fear that Dukat was gonna ripe him apart he kept rocking his hips into him. One part of Weyoun was completely in panic mode causing him to start sweating with his eyes searching the room blindly while the other was being wholly consumed by the desire to press tighter together, to grip at the very sensitive neck ridges harder.

His tightening grip made the sound even louder which seemed to make his brain catch up and realize that it might not mean the same thing for Cardassians as it does Jem'Hadar. The realization eased his breathing and pounding heart. That sudden shift in adrenaline made him feel giddy. And the constant flux of emotions was making him feel erratic and out of control. Dukat’s hand that had been on his back had migrated to his front and went into his pants. Feeling his cool fingers made it clear just how wet Weyoun was getting from this.

Dukat pulled away, “Here or the bed?”

“You’re not making my couch smell like sex.”

“Bed it is then.” Dukat grabbed him and carried him to the bedroom.

Setting him down they began to strip without comment. The clang of armor, the soft rustle of cloth and breathing was seemingly even louder than usual to Weyoun. As soon as he was naked Dukat was on him. Cool, slightly rough hands ran over his much softer, rounder body. Weyoun had sex in previous iterations. This body was newly made after contact with the Alpha Quadrant with Weyoun 4’s death so he didn’t have the experience, only the memories of the experiences of other Weyouns. And memory wasn’t always accurate or helpful. For instance in previous instances he had never been aroused or at least this aroused. He was so wet it made his ass slick before hitting the sheets. It was a little embarrassing, a Vorta should not be indulging or feel such things. There was no benefit to the Founders in this only himself.

Dukat’s fingers entered him, exploring him. Weyoun had seen medical diagrams of Cardassian biology but medical diagrams rarely prepare you for the experience of touching a body so alien to your own. Weyoun being a Vorta has dealt with a number of species as a representative of the Founders and always found their differences fascinating. It’s how he’s justified having sex in previous iterations, just exploring a fascination. Yet now with Dukat’s fingers stroking those little spots he wasn’t even familiar with inside of him he was starting to realize that wasn’t all it.

With his previous partners they’d all been with people he’d hardly known. People who had seemed to want him or something from him that he couldn’t give. So why when someone had wanted him it had been such a boring ordeal yet here with someone who doesn’t like him and that he doesn’t like one bit he’s been more aroused than his memory can recall? Is it because he knew he couldn’t give himself to someone else? His entire existence was made by and for the Founders. He had no right to give something that wasn’t his away.

Dukat removed his fingers and everted his prUt. It wasn’t very long, Cardassian biology and desirable standards didn’t focus on that. But it was a lovely color and had a wider base than it’s tip. Grabbing Weyoun under his knees he pulled them flush together before leaning over and pressing into him.

Weyoun had no right or desire to give something he did not have. Dukat grinded into him, his prUt rubbing against his line of nerve bundles inside of him. But maybe he wanted to be taken? It would be his fault if the Founders discovered he had wanted give himself to someone. But if someone else does it to him how is he to blame? He’s not betraying anyone. Dukat’s rumbling grew so that he could feel it vibrating through his own ribs. Weyoun doesn’t even like Dukat and Dukat doesn’t like him. So this feeling, this building isn’t his fault. He is still one of the Founders Vorta’s. Dukat is licking up his ear which Weyoun can swear he can feel tingle all the way down to the soles of his feet. So this is fine.

Weyoun is panting, he sounds so loud to his delicate ears. While he knows the Cardassians in the next apartments cannot hear them the paranoia that they could spikes in him and makes the next grind even more terribly consuming. A groan escapes, he refuses to look at Dukat and see his expression at that but he feels his gaze and his face flushes.

He can’t be guilty. He’d never even think of betraying the Founders. A quick prayer runs through his head on automatic. Not bothered by the excessive amount of fluid being coaxed out of him. This is just him doing his job. Dukat’s breathing something the translator doesn’t pick up in his ear. His Kardassi isn’t great without the translator but he knows it’s something he should be angry at Dukat about. Maintaining good relations is apart of his job. If he gets something out of it as well that can’t be so bad right? It’s not like he seeked this out. He doesn’t even like Dukat, he’d be the last person he’d trust with anything he truly cared about.

And Weyoun has much more to care about than himself. It came on suddenly, like he had been swallowed whole for a few brief moments. His prayers left his mind for a moment, not even a single thought of the Founders entered his head for those excruciating yet brief seconds. Dukat kept moving, Weyoun didn’t look at him, he didn’t care what Dukat thought. He’d never had an orgasm before and he’d rather not give Dukat the satisfaction of that knowledge. His body seemed to continue to vibrate at each stroke. He couldn’t quite catch his breath. The sound of their wet genitals seemed more obvious, less arousing and more disgusting now.

The thought to push Dukat away and yell at him to leave was a hard one to resist. He’d never done that with his previous partners. But he was angry at him and he couldn’t quite place why. Not wanting to be here for a moment longer Weyoun decided to take the initiative. He looked up at Dukat, his eyes crinkled at the edges when Weyoun made eye contact. His hands still a bit shakey he traced along his neck ridges, his touch growing more firm till he reached his jaw. It was on the down stroke that Dukat was finished. He kept eye contact with Weyoun the whole time, which shifted something inside Weyoun. Something that made him feel foul deep inside. 

Dukat rolled off of him and thankfully had no desire to stay. He talked the whole time he dressed, his voice dripping with self-satisfaction. Weyoun wasn’t listening at some point he responded but he couldn’t remember what. Was that his new bodies access to his olds ones memories being faulty or something else?

End of Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Normally Dukat’s claws tracing down his scalp would have been pleasant. But now he really needed Dukat to stop touching him. Flexing his fingers he tried to shake the control back into his body.

There was so much he was angry about, so much he needed to know, “What’s the date?” Weyoun’s voice was gritty from not being used before and held the temporary lisp that would be on him for a few more minutes.

Dukat gave it absentmindedly. Weyoun had been dead a week. How had his 6th iteration betrayed the Dominion so thoroughly in such a short amount of time? Fingers were stroking up his ears, distracting him from his thoughts.

Standing on shaky limbs had him pushing into Dukat. The hands on his ears stroked firmer at the shift in weight. His body leaned onto Dukat to get his balance. He should have told Dukat to stop touching him, that this wasn’t fun anymore, that this wasn’t what he wanted. All of which was true but all that came out was a moan at the firm touches of textured fingers along such delicate cartilage. 

Which just pissed him off more. Placing his hands on Dukat’s chest he could already feel the vibrations of that growling sound in his chest. He was having trouble hearing it over the roaring of blood in his ears. Attempting to push him away had his hands grinding against the harsh, cold armor. Soft, new hands, inflaming with irritation and pain as they skidded upwards. Eventually he managed to get a grip on the edge of Dukat’s armor. One of Dukat’s hands slid from his ear to the back of his head, the other wrapped around his torso, pinning him. Pulling him closer and up ,Dukat leaned down to meet him for a kiss.

Weyoun’s mouth was slack, giving Dukat’s tongue access. He was angry. Weyoun was angry at Dukat for now and for everything. He was angry at Damar for killing his last good self. And he was most angry at himself. How could he have done this? How could a Weyoun, a devout Vorta betray the Dominion and the Founders? Dukat’s kiss was demanding, painfully so. Good, he deserved it. This was his punishment wasn’t it? For betraying the Founders. He could feel a tear escape. It made so much sense. To punish him with his favorite sin. To have to live with the what made him weak. With what made him impure, less Vorta, till now, where he is a Vorta no more.

Breaking the kiss both of them were breathing heavily. Weyoun’s tight grip on Dukat’s armor was unsure if he wanted to pull him closer or push him away. Dukat looked down at him with such a weighty look. Like he was a prize well won. Like he had Weyoun right where he believed he should be. Weyoun felt that weight, it made his body feel heavy even though he’d exited the adjustment time. His body was his own again. Though not really, never really has been. 

Dukat walked him to a wall, grabbed him under his thighs and lifted him up. Leaning into him the center spur of Dukat’s breast plate dug into Weyoun’s chest. Weyoun knew he shouldn’t but he wrapped his legs around his waist anyway. Being crushed between Dukat and the wall was almost like being held. He was being kissed again and grinded against. Apart of him found this all so familiar. This wasn’t the first time Dukat had him backed to a wall. Yet this wasn’t the same. The painful scraping of that spur on his chest with each shift was the same. The wetness between his legs was the same. The untranslated Kardassi that Dukat was murmuring darkly into his ear was common enough for them. 

It was everything else that was different. This wasn’t a game anymore. He had no Jem'Hadar ready to come in if things got out of hand. His position would not be a wall to protect him because he had no position. He had no title, no rank, he wasn’t even a Vorta anymore. The grace and protection of the Founders had left him. Weyoun was alone. He was alone with Dukat.

When did Dukat’s hand end up in his pants? Touching him, those cool fingers stealing the warmth from deep inside of him. He groaned, it still felt good, that pain from being crushed and being stroked inside. That was the same. Weyoun was fully clothed but he felt naked. The layers he had built up through lifetimes of work and devotion were gone. He wasn’t apart of something, he didn’t have a purpose, he was on his own.

Pressing into his hand had him slide along that spur, digging it deeper for a moment. Dukat’s mouth was on his ear, his exhales wet and hot on Weyoun’s skin. Another finger in him, rubbing him. Even through his clothes he could hear how wet he was. Dukat removed his hand, pulling away, setting Weyoun back on trembling legs. 

He could take a full breath now, he didn’t like it. With air came clarity and he really didn’t want that right now. Once he began falling he didn’t want to stop till he hit the bottom. Dukat grabbed his face with both hands making him look up at him. He looked at Weyoun like he was gonna swallow him whole. Weyoun should have been more afraid of that look, instead he was pulling at the clasps to Dukat’s armor. Larger, stronger hands stopped him.

“Get undressed.” Finally something to do. 

Stripping out of the clothes he’d been in for less than an hour he kicked them away. Dukat was looking at him the breast plate spur left an angry red line down from his collarbone to his ribs. It throbbed and would probably bruise, he bruised easily. He was done getting undressed. What next? He needed to know what to do next. Dukat’s hand stroked at his neck, the one still wet from being inside him leaving a trailing smell of himself along his neck.

“You feel different.” He said running his hands over him.

“I’m new.” Was all that came out.

Dukat’s rumble grew more fervent, “You’re so soft.” He pressed his face into the side of Weyoun’s so that it was right in his ear.

Yet Dukat didn’t get naked. He lifted Weyoun back to where he had him but now he had a hand between them stroking him. Looking down to see his exposed skin pressed tight to Dukat’s fully clothed, armored body made him feel so vulnerable. It wasn’t the good kind of vulnerable. But then Dukat’s fingers stroked down his line of nerves and it felt even more intense. His body tensing with each stroke. Dukat was staring down at him. He crushed his body into him harder so he could use his other hand to make Weyoun look at him.

There was that look again. That Weyoun was exactly where he belonged. He didn’t like it, he tried to turn his head but Dukat’s hold was too tight. Weyoun wasn’t saying anything or making any noise but over the rumbling of satisfaction in his chest he could hear Dukat shushing him. Like he was a frightened animal. He was getting close he could feel it. While made to stare back at Dukat all he could focus on was the crushing hold on his face, the weight of Dukat pressing him into the wall and the strikingly gentle strokes inside of him. 

When he came his limbs shook. A long high pitched sound left him. Dukat pulled out his fingers and covered his sex as he came, heavily coating his hand. His chest heaved as he felt so drained. Taking a step back Dukat watched as Weyoun slid to the floor. 

“I have an errand to run.” Dukat started with such a pleased tone. “You know my quarters there’s a few drawers for your clothes in the dresser.” He lifted and stroked Weyoun’s face with his wet hand, “I won’t be gone long.” A thumb got into his mouth and without thought he sucked on it.

Dukat stepped closer to him and watched him clean his hand. Other hand stroking through his hair causing pleasant tingles in his scalp. Weyoun closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the blackness behind his eyelids. Opening them he looked up at Dukat’s shadowed face.

Dukat’s breathing was heavier, “Yes, I’ll be back soon.” He patted Weyoun on the cheek before walking out.

The sound of the locking mechanism was loud to Weyoun. For a few moments he sat catching his breath. Feeling like Dukat was gonna walk right back in. When a minute passed the drying fluid on his thighs was growing cold, uncomfortable and felt revolting. He stood at first to go take a shower but turning he saw the mess on the floor. Could smell it and didn’t want it there when he came back so he cleaned it up. Dukat being back in his old quarters meant he had a few luxuries. One of them was a water shower. Weyoun was thankful for it. Sonic showers just didn’t feel as clean. Like he could still feel a layer of grime afterwards. And right now he wanted to be clean.

The water was hot. The soaps were the same ones as the last time he was in here. It smelled like something musty, most likely a scent that smelled good to Cardassians that he wasn’t familiar with. It felt good, the water running down his body. Watching the soap carry his mess with it. Just getting clean. He didn’t want to get out. Outside meant getting dirty again but he couldn’t hide in here forever. Taking a robe he walked to Dukat’s bedroom. Would that also make it his bedroom now? Pulling open drawers trying to find his clothes took him a few minutes. All the clothes were Cardassian so it took a few passes to find what were supposed to be his clothes. Once dressed he fixed his hair. Smoothing the long hairs on the sides back. Making himself look more presentable.

Now what?

What was he supposed to do now? He knew the doors were locked but he went to them anyway. They didn’t open he had heard them lock, why had he hoped they would open? What was he supposed to do? Whenever he had free time he would fiddle with his collection of fun textured things that he’d enjoyed running his hands over. Sometimes he’d go play Dabo or find a different game. Other times he’d bother Damar or Dukat just to waste time. Mainly he’d pray. But what was the point of praying to gods who had rejected him? Who’d kicked him out of their grace. So what was he supposed to do?

But this wasn’t Weyoun Ambassador and loyal Vorta this was…..Weyoun property of Gul Dukat. These were not his quarters they were Dukat’s. And Dukat didn’t have much to do in his quarters. Not that’d he’d looked very hard to be honest. He’d been preoccupied with...other things the other times he’d been here. So he stood in front of the door. Weyoun stood there till Dukat came back. Just stood there thinking about what he was supposed to do.

Dukat looked surprise to see him just standing there, “You can sit down these are your quarters too now.” Weyoun blinked and looked up at him, “I suppose I should give a tour.”

Weyoun had been in his quarters well over a dozen times he didn’t need or want a tour of his boring ass apartments, “I wasn’t sure what to do.” Weyoun hadn’t meant to say that.

Previous Weyoun’s always had pristine control over what he said. Why was this one having problems? Was he broken? Is this body defective? His last body, his rejected body, his traitorous..

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dukat broke him out of his thoughts before grasping him by the shoulder.

He began leading him around the space, “You of course know where my room is and the bathroom.” He gestured to them, “The replicator will make any food or drink you want though I know you don’t taste much just make sure to clean up after yourself,” As if Weyoun was the messy one, “Ziyal’s room is here for when she gets back.” Oh yes his daughter.

“Where is Ziyal?” He asked having no knowledge outside what Weyoun 5 knew and that info was a week behind.

“This room will be yours whenever Ziyal gets home and you can go in there whenever I don’t need you or when you’re alone. But for now you can stay in my room at night.” Just gonna brush that aside huh?

Ziyal had been really close to Kira. Speaking of which he hadn’t seen her. Not at his revival or in the halls. What had happened when The Federation attacked? Dukat had been pulling him across the main room and the air movement made him catch a whiff of it. The smell of himself on Dukat. He hadn’t changed his clothes or washed his hands before he left. And if he could smell it the much more sensitive noses of the Cardassians and Jem'Hadar on the station most certainly could.

Dukat was going on about how Ziyal would be going back to Cardassia Prime when she gets back but Weyoun was too busy trying to bury the disgust and humiliation bubbling in him. Dukat had never been subtle. It had what made him a great puppet for the Dominion. An easy to read puppet is an easy to control one. What errand had needed his attention right at that moment? He hadn’t been called for anything. He did not want to be with Dukat right now.

“So what’s in the room?” His question stopped Dukat’s praises of the school Ziyal would be going to.

“Why don’t we see? It’s right here.” Dukat kept his hand on Weyoun’s shoulder till they reached the door.

Walking in it was obvious this had been a closet for the apartments next door. Dukat stepped in after him and leaned against the wall. There was a single person bed, a desk and chair fitting tightly near the door and an end table at the head of the bed. Weyoun found it depressing. Dukat grabbing him around the waist had him flinch.

“I doubt you’ll get much use out of it.” Dukat pulled him closer and kissed him on the head, his exhale moving through his hair, “Lets head to bed.”

End of Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Weyoun had went to Dukat’s quarters on a few occasions before he ever entered them. He did it whenever he wanted to keep Dukat on his toes and surprise him when he left for work. It gave him a nice advantage in the conversation if he dropped it on him. He also made sure to never do it too frequently or that’d ruin the affect. The first time he went into Dukat’s quarters was under different circumstances.

After the first time they had sex Weyoun had expected Dukat to gloat or get unprofessional now that he had gotten what he wanted from Weyoun. So he’d been pleasantly surprised when he’d remained at the exact same level of annoying and disrespectful but no more. He did seem to try and touch Weyoun more often, mainly a guiding hand on the shoulder but nothing overtly forward. If anything he seemed to take Weyoun’s side more often. It was pissing Damar right off. A blossom of respect for Dukat’s professionalism bloomed within him from this. Since Dukat has what he wants, sex, there was no reason to be so aggressive in his flirting.

Upon reflection Weyoun wonders if this is Dukat’s true skill. He’s unsubtle but due to his inability to hide what he wants it covers just how MUCH he wants. Because if Dukat had just wanted casual sex than Weyoun would not be in the position he is now.

At first it seemed like their exchange was gonna be a one night stand sort of situation. Which was what Weyoun was used to though he never had to spend time with someone afterwards. It had him…...feeling different. Even now Weyoun doesn’t really know what to call the feeling. He still didn’t like Dukat. He was just as infuriating in meetings and blinded by his vices as ever. At the time he just took it for respect. Respect really isn’t something he was used to and even now doesn’t entirely understand as a concept. It’s something that’s rare among Vorta. No one spoke of it but they all knew why. Just because the memories of older versions of themselves were put in their heads that didn’t make them the same person. They hide it from the Jem'Hadar, outsiders and even the Founders to an extent but they couldn’t hide it from themselves. And due to being representatives of the Dominion an individual often didn’t live long enough to build any relationships on friendship or love. Even among themselves. The closest they had to real relationships were the petty rivalries among their own kind due to long memories of previous undermining or the tumultuous on the verge of violence cooperation they had with their Jem’Hadar.

Weyoun was in a position he’d never been before. But his feelings on any matter weren’t important, the Founders will was. So he went about as if nothing had changed between them. And it’s not like Dukat’s personality had suddenly improved or something so there were constant reminders of why he disliked the man. Weyoun was waiting for the day the Alpha Quadrant would be under Dominion control so he could watch his execution. But there were times when a meeting would run late. They’d be alone and they would just sit quietly together watching the stars and Dukat would reach over and stroke up the back of Weyoun’s neck. Weyoun would be overcome with that pleasant feeling and the desire to curl up next to him. Instead he would keep his seat and just bask in something he hadn’t experienced much in any life, being wanted.

He was playing Dabo at Quarks while Dukat and Damar drank at the bar. It’s hard to say what he liked most about it. Games were something he’d enjoyed in all of his lives. Though the oldest living of Weyouns’, Weyoun 2 who lived over three decades had his love of games wain in his old age. Damar and Dukat were mumbling in what they thought was too soft for anyone to hear about riots the Dominions presence were causing on Cardassia. It wasn’t something that Weyoun was concerned with at the moment. As the night went on and they drank more heavily their conversation shifted to reminiscing before Damar stumbled away to vomit somewhere. 

Weyoun was feeling wide awake despite it being so late. After Damar left he’d stopped subtly paying attention because Dukat wasn’t talking. He’d heard him get up and walk over but was surprised when Dukat placed a hand on the small of his back. He felt heat rise all the way up his ears which thankfully was covered by his hair, hiding his blush.

“Why don’t we go to my quarters?” Dukat whispered into his ear. 

There was a strange twisting in his belly, “I’ll meet you there I just need to cash out.” Weyoun whispered back.

For a few seconds Dukat hesitated before taking his hand off of him and walking out of the bar. The hesitation irritated Weyoun so he did one more spin just to make him stew before cashing out and heading to Dukat’s quarters. He chimed and the doors opened for him. Dukat was sitting on the couch waiting. He had a smile on his face but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I was wondering if you weren’t going to come.” He was staring at him with a look he didn’t care for.

“I can still leave if waiting was so strenuous for you?” Weyoun had a way to concerned tone in his voice to make it obvious how much he did not care about Dukat’s time.

“There are much better things we could be doing than arguing.” Dukat said before tapping his thighs, “Come here.”

Having never initiated a sexual encounter before Weyoun felt relief at having Dukat give him some direction. Walking to him he felt like he looked foolish sitting in Dukat’s lap. It made him blush. One arm wrapped around his back while the other reached up so he could trace his knuckles across his face.

“I hate to admit it, but your blushing has a charm to it.” It seemed Dukat was trying to compliment him.

“Then I’ll be sure to use that to my advantage the next time Damar tries to stonewall me.” That got a chuckle out of him.

His thumb ran over his bottom lip before slipping to the back of his head to pull him in for a kiss. This was the first time they kissed. Thankfully Dukat’s over confidence covered for Weyoun’s inexperience. Soon both hands were on his hips and pulled him to rub against him. That got a whine out of Weyoun. He was wet and rubbed himself along Dukat’s pelvis. It was awkward though cause he had to lean his chest back to avoid the chest spur of Dukat’s armor. Getting frustrated with how Dukat wasn’t holding him he pulled away to undo the latches on Dukat’s armor and let it clang onto the floor.

Finally Dukat wrapped his arms around him. Their chests pressed together Weyoun hesitantly leaned down to kiss Dukat. He could feel the smile on his lips. Weyoun doesn’t know how long they were like that. Kissing, grinding and Dukat biting at him. Hands going under each others clothes to come out and pull him a little closer. Just after a point it grew unbearable, both of them panting. 

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” Dukat’s voice was husky with that deep rumble underlining it.

Weyoun nodded before climbing off Dukat. His legs felt wobbly. Grabbing his wrist Dukat led him to his room before shedding his clothes. Weyoun followed suit and as soon as he was naked Dukat was pulling him into his lap. For some reason it was easier this time. As if something had shifted in the week since their first encounter. As he lowered himself onto Dukat’s prUt, arms crushing him to Dukat’s chest his mind wasn’t completely filled with thoughts of the Founders. With each grind and soothing rumble he felt a little less guilt and shame. Why was this so much different than last time? What had changed? 

The strokes inside him, rubbing at that sensitive line of nerves had him spiraling down to think of nothing but his oncoming orgasm and that unnameable feeling that seemed to be swirling around inside of him. Unlike last time he let himself fall into it. The sensation of building heat and that almost overwhelming feeling had tears prickling at his eyes. He pressed tightly to Dukat, like he wanted to be swallowed into him, consumed by him. Anything to keep those thoughts of guilt and shame away for as long as possible. As long as he was being used, being pet, swimming in arousal and unknown emotions his guilt for betraying the Founders was kept at bay. Dukat was kissing him deeply, Weyoun tried to follow his example. Weyoun reached behind and under himself, he wanted to feel him. Experimentally he stroked at the lower part of Dukat’s ajan. He groaned deeply. On the grind down a finger slipped in and he felt Dukat tense under him. His hold growing crushing as pain exploded from Weyoun’s neck causing Weyoun to cry out as Dukat came into him. Dukat kissed his neck as his grip loosened. 

His nose trailed up his face till his pants were at his ear, “Don’t do that again without asking.” Dukat said his voice sounding heavier.

Weyoun nodded into his shoulder. He was still buzzing with arousal but the arms wrapped around him were worth just resting here pressed to Dukat’s heaving chest. A pat to his flank had him trying to stand up. Thighs felt sore and he could feel his muscles quack as he did so. Dukat took a hold of his shoulder to steady him. He got up and turned them around so Weyoun was lying on the bed. Cupping his dripping sex he pushed Weyoun up the bed till he had him where he wanted him. Kneeing his legs apart Weyoun felt trapped under Dukat’s looming form. But there was a thrill to it, the thrill of being trapped, of being used and abused. It was thrilling because it wasn’t real. It was a game and Weyoun liked games. The hand cupping him began stroking him. His other hand groping up his body. 

Weyoun was getting close. Bending his knees he pressed himself down into Dukat’s hold on him. Looking up Dukat had a pleased look as he stared down at him. A dark splotch painted Dukat’s lips, his tongue came out to swipe at it, whipping it away. Dukat had bit at him hard enough to bleed and that made the throbbing in his neck pulse in time with the throbbing of his arousal. There wasn’t a single thought about the Founders or his duty as Dukat stroked him. The groping hand reached his face and a claw traced his jaw before his thumb entered his mouth making him keep it open. Sounds that Weyoun had been keeping relatively quiet now had no filter. The smirk on Dukat’s face grew wider as the humiliation had the blush on Weyoun’s face spread. His body felt like it was vibrating it was so close. Dukat’s hand stopped moving but kept his firm hold of his sex.

The wet thumb left his mouth, “What is it you want Weyoun?”

He groaned feeling too embarrassed to ask, “I’m close.” He managed to breath out.

Dukat tutted at him, “That’s not what I asked Weyoun. Now what do you want? What do you need?” His grip on him tightened causing Weyoun to whine.

“I need...” He paused to breath, “I want you inside me. To hold me.” Dukat stared down at him the lighting making the shadow cast by his brow ridges even harsher.

“Is that so?” Dukat pet down his face, his eyes were lost in shadow except for his pupils that reflected the light back at him, like a predators in the dark.

“Yes...please.” Weyoun whined feeling shame creep back into him and wanting anything to hold it at bay.

“Very well.” Finally he laid down on top of him.

He wrapped his arms around him to pull Dukat down to pull himself onto his prUt. Weyoun’s legs tried to wrap around Dukat to keep him in as long as possible but the muscles in his thighs were sore. With each stroke they’d fall away till he felt too tired and out of breath from Dukat’s bruising hold. But he wanted the pain, that out of breath sensation. It kept his thoughts from his mind and allowed him to be lost to sensation. The strange addictive haze of arousal, pain, humiliation and that indescribable feeling that made him want to stay under Dukat forever. Dukat was biting at him and an especially hard one to his collarbone had him crying out as he came. 

As he shook though the after shocks Dukat stopped moving and was wetly kissing under his jaw. With his body cooling Dukat sat up. He was still erect and inside him. The smell of sex was heavy on and between them. Dukat moved more slowly, purposefully as he looked down at Weyoun. His movements felt a little painful as it rubbed his oversensitive nerves. Since Weyoun was no longer aroused the disgust started to creep back in. The smell seemed to be in everything. His hair, on his skin, in the pillows. The wet sticky sounds weren’t helping. He had cried out rather loudly had someone heard him? When Dukat finished Weyoun sighed in relief at being done.

Rolling off of him Weyoun moved to get up but Dukat pulled him into his chest, “I should go to my quarters.” Weyoun said trying to pull out of his hold.

Dukat rested his head on top of Weyoun’s, “There’s no rush stay the night.” It wasn’t a question.

One large hand wrapped up around his chest to hold his shoulder back into his cool, scaled chest. The other wrapped around the other way to rest on his pelvis. Occasionally a claw would trace over his sex. It felt nice to be held and to feel breathing behind him. Getting in sync with his, it made him feel a little less alone. He did feel gross and wanted to clean up but what was one night gonna hurt? It’s not like this was gonna become a regular thing.

End of Chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Dukat walked him backwards into his room. He felt the bed behind his knees. At this rate why even bother getting dressed?

“My Weyoun.” Dukat was murmuring between kisses.

Weyoun felt an odd sort of calm. As if his nerves weren’t connected right and his mind was unable to register Dukat’s touches. He knew and could feel him pulling his clothes off but he couldn’t FEEL it. It wasn’t the pulsating heat that he was used to when they had sex. When Dukat pulled back to pull his shirt off he looked at Weyoun’s face and could see him not feeling him.

“Weyoun. My Weyoun.” Dukat pet his face trailing a claw up his ear. That tingle was like a line reeling his mind back into his body. “I’ve got you.” Dukat kissed his other ear, pulling him in even faster.

His left hand pulling him into a tight embrace. It was the pain. The stabbing pain of the frontal spur on Dukat’s armor that finished trapping him inside his body. Weyoun took in a deep breath as if he hadn’t breathed even while knowing he did. He’d just experienced it but it already felt so far away.

Dukat stepped back to look at him, “There you are.” He said tracing his cheekbone. He turned his head so Weyoun looked back at him, “Take my armor off.”

That feeling inside him when he was around Dukat seemed to especially flourish when he was given something to do. It’s why he didn’t hesitate to unclasp and pull off Dukat’s armor. It’s why when Dukat told him to kneel he felt relief rather than worry.

A booted foot planted itself on his thigh, he could feel the tread digging into his flesh, “Take them off.” With each command it became easier. That feeling grew to a constant, fully embodying sensation.

It was easy to follow what Dukat said because he knew he would get a pet, a stroke or just attention if he obeyed. And really what could Weyoun do to defend himself from being told he was doing a good job, that he was approved of, that he was wanted and appreciated? This was the trap that Weyoun 5 couldn’t resist but it was Weyoun 7 who was ensnared by it. And he knew he should resist it, that the claws would just dig into him deeper, bleed him out if he didn’t try to get away. But what reason had he to leave? Where would he go? His gods had abandoned him, his kind had rejected him, he’d lost all purpose except this. So why not? Why not let those claws sink in deeper? The more he bleed the number he grew. And really what else could he hope for? But numbness to existence.

Dukat was whipping the tears from his eyes as he sucked him off. Looking up at him, being pet with fingers that grew firm whenever he sucked harder. He groaned in his throat. Dukat thrust farther into his mouth with a moan, appreciating the vibrations. Weyoun kept his hands in his lap, where Dukat liked them when he kneeled in front of him. He was breathing out Kardassi as he got closer. The kind that the translator wouldn’t pick up. The kind that Weyoun’s own translations took on new meaning now. What he was saying was a declaration of ownership. That used to swell his arousal to know he was wanted so badly. But now that he was had he found the reminder...unhelpful.

It made him want to bite down on him. To feel the muscle in his mouth tear and bleed. To remind him that he was Vorta, deserving of respect as all those who serve the Dominion are owed. Except he wasn’t any of those things. He just had this anger, this feeling of being disrespected being squashed under that pleasant veil of a feeling. A feeling that he was secure, that it was okay, that this felt like the best place to be because he was wanted. A feeling that was a lie. He kept eye contact when Dukat came in his mouth. Dukat liked eye contact, he liked to be seen.

Weyoun had often speculated if you locked Dukat in a room alone he would wither and die like a plant without sunlight. He just couldn’t seem to handle being ignored. It had been one of Weyoun’s favorite ways to manipulate him, to ignore him. Ignoring him either enraged him or had him spiraling into a cascade of reshifting tactics to get your eyes and ears back on him. Not that ignoring him would be of much use now. It’s difficult to ignore someone who’s inserted themselves so centrally into your life. He was a planet and Weyoun was an asteroid that had gotten into his orbit and was slowly spiraling closer till his eventual crash landing. And besides what would Weyoun even ignore him for?

Dukat was saying something, Weyoun wasn’t listening. Just cause he couldn’t ignore him didn’t mean he had to listen to him. It was easier to switch off the translator and just pretend that his words had no meaning. Translators always made people’s voices feel less animated, more synthetic than they actually were. Dukat’s voice had a deeper baritone to it without the translator. He was being pulled onto the bed, pressed into Dukat’s chest with his left hand under him. The right reaching over to hold him, claws tracing his sex, arousing him despite himself. Dukat was speaking again, he turned the translator back on.

“...so you’ll be in here for the time being.” Dukat was saying, “It wasn’t my decision I’d personally love to have you around the station,” Of course he would. He’d love to have him on his knees in his office, “But the Dominion representative wanted your presence to a minimum. Apparently your betrayal had caused quite a stir.”

“Is that so?” Was the first thing Weyoun has said in about an hour.

The sound of his voice seemed to perk Dukat up, “It is. Seems the Founders had to do some clean up after what you did. Some sort of re-configuring with the cloning process to ensure it doesn’t happen again.” That made dread spread in his stomach, but why?

It was standard procedure. If a Vorta behaved against his programming his DNA and memories were examined to discover the cause to ensure such deviance was avoided in the future. So why did this news upset him? It would be more surprising if his fault was placed entirely on himself instead dispersed through his species. Rarely was a Vorta held up alone as the guilty party of their crime. They were sinful for existing as solids. A necessary sin, a loyal sin, a repentant sin, but still a sin and you don’t trust sins.

Dukat seemed to have noticed that what he said upset him cause his left hand was gripping him tighter to his cool chest, “I’ll protect you. That’s why I took you, to protect you.” Did Dukat really believe what he was saying? Did he think he was fooling Weyoun? “You’re safe now. I’ll keep a hold of you no matter what.” If he was trying to be reassuring he was failing. Weyoun was not reassured he just wanted to crawl away, “My Weyoun.” Dukat was drifting to sleep he could hear it in his voice.

It took much longer for Weyoun to get to sleep. He was on high alert. Feeling like something new would be thrown at him at any moment, but it didn’t. He eventually was so exhausted he managed to get some sleep. Dukat’s alarm woke him up. At first he didn’t remember where he was and panicked when he realized he was trapped. Dukat shushing him tiredly reminded him where he was. He held him for a bit before getting up. A pat to his thigh. Unsure what to do with himself he just sat on the bed and watched as Dukat got ready. Usually he’d be joining him since they often had the same first meeting but Weyoun wouldn’t be going anywhere anymore. When he returned from the bathroom smelling clean and finished dressing he went up to Weyoun and ran a hand through his hair.

“You will get cleaned up, get something to eat and change these sheets.” Dukat said grazing his knuckles down his ear, “I’ll be back for lunch with something to help distract you while I’m gone. You can nap after you’re done. You look tired.”

“Yes sir.” That always got a smile out of him. 

He leaned down and left a gentle kiss on his lips, like he was his partner and not...property before he left. Weyoun’s sensitive ears could hear the locking mechanism all the way in Dukat’s room. 

Weyoun changed the sheets first not wanting to have to do it after he got clean. He was more than ready to take a shower. The hot water hitting his shoulders always helped calm him down. It soothed his nerves, helped ease his thoughts. He took his time in the shower, but trying to keep his thoughts blank was harder today so he left to avoid thinking too much. Right now he didn’t want to think too deeply about things.

Food was always something Weyoun struggled with. His second iteration had starved to death when he was the lone survivor of a sabotage attempt on the outpost he was on. The memory of those long weeks of waiting for rescue or death had stuck. It’s why despite knowing that the replicators weren’t going to run out he still felt the need to ration. The fact he could only taste the most vibrant of flavors and even then not very well wasn’t too much of a concern for him. He didn’t feel like he was missing out on anything. But since he was ordered to eat it was easier. Grabbing a plate he ate in the main room listening to the sounds of the station or the occasional passerby. The Founders hadn’t allowed them much but their excellent hearing had it’s benefits but often felt more like a curse. It’s hard to command their ships when the very sound of the ship was piercing your ears at all hours, disrupting your sleep and exasperating your headaches. 

Thankfully the computer still took his requests though only simple ones like what the time was. He had several hours before Dukat’s usual lunch hour and he did feel tired so he went to take a nap in his room. Sleeping in Dukat’s bed wasn’t something he really wanted to do. The single bed was comfortable enough and since he only had a few hours of sleep and was alone it was easy for him to drift off.

He woke up by being shook awake, Dukat leaning over him, “I have something for you.” He left for the main room.

Following him Dukat was sitting at the table eating some Bajoran dish he couldn’t remember the name of. A lot of food tasted the same so he didn’t put much time into memorizing their names. Dukat waved him over. Going to him Dukat gestured for him to sit.

“You mentioned how you need things to do so I’ve set up this padd for you.” He handed it to Weyoun, “Inside are several books and some games.” Scrolling through them they all looked Cardassian, “The communication has been disabled except for a private link to me. That way if I have to go off station we’ll be able to keep in contact.”

Weyoun kept scrolling through the material on the padd, “Well?” Dukat started his tone impatient, “Isn’t there something you should say Weyoun?” The patronizaiton seemed even heavier than usual.

“Thank you Dukat. I really appreciate it.” Weyoun smiled up at him. He hadn’t completely lost his talent for lying it seemed.

Dukat smiled back before leaning over to him grabbing his chin, “Too bad I have only an hour or else you could thank me properly.” Of course. Weyoun shouldn’t be surprised that the padd wasn’t for free.

The more Weyoun smiled the easier it became, “I can always thank you later.” That pleased him as he leaned in for a kiss.

Dukat liked to use kissing as a reward. Weyoun was pretty indifferent to kissing he preferred being pet. A hand wound up on his thigh lightly tugging him closer to Dukat as Dukat deepened the kiss. Weyoun went through the motions till Dukat pulled away. He went back to eating his lunch and started telling him a story about his father that Weyoun politely nodded through with the occasional question. It seemed to be a beloved Cardassian pass time to tell the stories of how well those you know served the Cardassian Empire.

While Weyoun took pride in his past work it wasn’t something the Vorta or Jem'Hadar bragged about. It was common enough to remind fellow Vorta about why you deserved your rank but they didn’t have ‘family stories’ in the same sense other species had. The Jem'Hadar had their units which while not family in any traditional sense. They were loyal to them and spent almost all of their time together. However due to their short lives and constantly enforced loyalty to the Founders they didn’t value their service in the way other kinds of soldiers did. Being a soldier wasn’t a choice for them they were engineered for it. Though Weyoun had often speculated that the Jem’Hadar’s interest in the Klingons extended beyond just wanting to improve their usefulness. The Klingons valued strength and violence the only things the Jem’Hadar were allowed to value outside the Founders. Their units tightly bound and ran on a respect and loyalty for one another, possibly even more than their loyalty to their Founders.

Vorta did not have this sort of connection with one another as the Jem’Hadar did. It hadn’t been uncommon for a Vorta to not see another of their kind for months, sometimes years on end depending on their task. The only Vorta that had any connections were the very small group of scientists, such as the ones who maintained their fellow Vorta’s clones or the outpost Weyoun 2 was stationed at. So the idea of being proud of someone else’s accomplishments seemed very foreign to him. But Weyoun didn’t mind Dukat’s stories too much as long as they weren’t centered around his self-aggrandizing. 

When Dukat finished he gave Weyoun another kiss. The hand holding his thigh gave it a squeeze before Dukat stood up. A pet down the back of his head had Weyoun leaning into his touch. He could hear that rumble softly starting before he left. Leaving Weyoun to clean up Dukat’s plate. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Weyoun could survive this.

End of Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feeling Weyoun is describing is sub space. It's a kind of natural high that's brought on by either endorphins after pain or triggered after building a relationship with their dom. Some people describe it as euphoric. Weyoun doesn't know BDSM terminology though so he just experiences it without the understanding of what brings it on. Which is a fun space to be in when you're with someone trustworthy. Dukat however is not trustworthy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: past abuse, past rape/non-con, rape/non-con elements
> 
> There is a brief comparison between what is currently happening and an assault Weyoun had suffered before.
> 
> *** will be around that paragraph for people who need it.

Weyoun hadn’t intended to start seeing Dukat regularly during his free time. Free time was a rare thing in the Dominion. Both the Jem’Hadar and the Vorta were expected to work as much as physically possible. The Jem’Hadar had the white but the Vorta still needed to eat several times a day and sleep every 30-35hrs. But them wasting time by eating and sleeping wasn’t appreciated by the Jem’Hadar who worked all hours, often while not even given a chance to sit. So being on Terok Nor and running on a Cardassian clock gave both Weyoun and the Jem’Hadar the unique experience of having time where you weren’t working or maintaining your body. It was something Weyoun knew he was gonna miss once the Dominion controlled the quadrant. Having time to enjoy games or even just sit and think for a bit was a treat he was gonna hate parting with. 

Since free time was so rare he had no intention of spending it with someone he didn’t even like. Yet he kept finding himself with Dukat. When he’d go to play Dabo, Dukat would be at Quarks. When he’d go to his quarters Dukat would walk him there. Weyoun had never had someone so interested in spending time with him. It had a charm to it that he was finding hard to resist. And really what harm could it do? It was only helping the Dominion to keep Dukat in his corner. If Weyoun got a bit of enjoyment out of it so what?

Dukat was aware that Weyoun liked games it was why he started inviting him to play Korta with him. Despite disliking Dukat he found the allure of a game, especially one where he could beat Dukat worth having to listen to him prattle on.

Weyoun was just about done with his shift supervising ops when Dukat came and discreetly placed his hand on his lower back, “Come to my quarters when you’re finished. I think I have another game we could play.” Despite not wanting to show too much Weyoun couldn’t completely stop the slight smile on his face.

“Alright I just have a few more minutes.” Dukat left. If Weyoun could give him one thing Dukat was doing a decent job at being discreet about their relationship in front of the grunts.

It would be bad for Weyoun if it got out but it also wouldn’t help Dukat. Besides Damar’s hatred of him it’d make it look like Dukat was being pulled along by Weyoun. Which is what Weyoun wanted and was doing but having the Cardassian people dissuading Dukat from listening to him would hinder Weyoun’s work. So it was for both of their benefits to keep this under wraps. Weyoun did think Damar suspected them but Damar was loyal to Dukat. From what he could tell Damar has held much darker secrets for Dukat than this.

Dukat was in his usual spot on the couch when he came over, looking over his favorite padd. He had changed his clothes at some point. Glancing up at him Dukat smirked and patted the couch wanting him to sit next to him. Besides raising an eyebrow Weyoun went and sat where he’d been instructed. Dukat shut off the padd as soon as Weyoun went to him and sat it on the coffee table. 

“So what new game do you have in mind?” Weyoun was curious as far as he could tell the Korta board was the only game Dukat had in his quarters.

“Well it’s not like Dabo or Korta. It’s more like..” Dukat paused and gestured with his hands as he tried to string together the right words, “Acting or playing pretend.”

“I have never played pretend and have never acted.” Weyoun answered matter of factly.

Dukat tilted his head in that way that meant he thought he knew something Weyoun didn’t, “Now Weyoun. I know for a fact you act and pretend all the time. Your skills at lying attest to that.”

He hadn’t thought about it like that but it made a sort of sense, “Okay what kind of pretend game?” Weyoun was interested in the concept and felt excitement at getting to try something he hadn’t done before.

Dukat reached over and stroked his neck, “It ties into our...bedroom activities. It’s where you pretend that you have to do what I say or else you’ll get punished. And as long as you obey I take care of you, keep you happy and safe. It’s a kind of roleplay.” Dukat kept his eyes fixed on Weyoun’s.

“So what you’d be like a Founder and I obey you like one?” Dukat scooted a little closer.

“That’s one way we could play it. If you’d like. The good thing about these sort of games is that it can be any sort of relationship you want.” The fingers petting the back of his neck were getting distracting.

“Well I don’t want you to be a Founder. That’d be blasphemous.” The idea of a Founder engaging in sexual activities was ludicrous, “But I do see the appeal of a game like that.” Being taken care of for once sounded nice.

Dukat’s face broke into a wide smile, “I’m glad.” He reached behind himself, “And I have a little prop for it if you don’t mind.” He pulled out a black leather collar.

Something about it had a blush rising up Weyoun’s face, “I see.” Weyoun felt out of his depth but was too intrigued to wanna turn back so he lifted his head, “Go on ahead then.”

He could hear that rumble starting in Dukat’s chest. The hand petting him gave his neck another stroke before grabbing the collar. Dukat was very close to him as he put it on, his breath on his cheek. The sound of the leather weaving through the buckle seemed loud between them. When he was finished putting it on he kissed Weyoun on the cheek before pulling back.

His pupils were blown wide, “That looks wonderful on you.” Voice husky as he stared at the collar and traced his fingers around it.

Weyoun’s blush grew worse at such heavy attention, “Thank you.” Weyoun wasn’t complimented often.

Dukat leaned in and kissed him on the lips, “So shall we start?” Left hand kneading his thigh while the right was stroking Weyoun through his pants.

Weyoun’s breathing was getting deeper as that feeling began to spread through him again, “Yes.” Dukat kissed him deeply then. The hand palming him stroking even harder causing him to happily open his mouth for Dukat. That feeling swelling and consuming all thoughts as Dukat laid claim to his mouth.

Weyoun pulled away to take a breath, “I want you to crawl to me.” Dukat said before getting up and sitting at his table. Eyes dark as he stared at Weyoun who was in a daze. 

Mind catching up with his ears he should have found such a demeaning request embarrassing and not strangely arousing, “Yes.” Weyoun answered even though it hadn’t been a request.

“Yes sir.” Dukat told him.

“Yes sir.” Weyoun repeated making Dukat’s face twist into something wholey consumed by satisfaction. He got down and started to crawl towards him, eyes on the floor.

“Look at me Weyoun.” He looked up without hesitation at the order. Dukat had a hand between his legs as he watched.

Weyoun was liking being watched. It caused him to slow down his movements. He could see Dukat slow down his strokes to match Weyoun’s crawl. When he reached him he traced his palms up Dukat’s thighs. Dukat’s other hand fisting his hair and pulling him up for another kiss. A bite to his lip had Weyoun gasping, the sound had a groan escape Dukat’s throat. As if resisting himself Dukat pulled Weyoun away. His eyes boring into Weyoun’s with such intensity. 

A particularly loud rumble out of his chest let Weyoun know just how pleased he was, “You listen so well Weyoun.” Letting go of himself Dukat grabbed Weyoun on either side of his face, “Now I want you to use your mouth.” Looking away from his eyes he could see Dukat’s everted prUt through his pants.

Sliding his hands up he gripped him through the fabric. But that wasn’t what he was told so Dukat gave him a smack to the face. The pain was stinging and gave him pause for a moment.

“Your mouth Weyoun.” Knuckles stroking where he hit him, “You want to be good and obey right?” Dukat asked him pulling him back to the present. 

“Yes sir.” Another rumble.

“Good.” Dukat breathed out.

His face still throbbed as he opened Dukat’s pants and pulled out his prUt, “Hands on your knees Weyoun.” Doing as he was told he leaned forward and gave him a lick.

***  
He’d only given oral once before and it was under much less enjoyable circumstances. The outpost Weyoun 2, the engineer was at was being sabotaged. One of the saboteurs decided Weyoun deserved to be knocked down a peg. Weyoun tried not to think about that. He tried to focus on the differences as he went. For one texture, Dukat’s prUt was wet and smooth while the other one had been dry and rough. A hand was petting through his hair rather than pulling it out. The words being mumbled at him were in Kardassi rather than insults he understood deeply. It was shorter making it easier to fit the whole thing in his mouth instead of being laughed at as he choked on it, tears running down his face. Weyoun felt secure and pleasant, not trapped and terrified.  
***

That feeling made it clear that he was here, not there. A thumb traced his lips surrounding Dukat. The intensity of Dukat’s stare hadn’t gone down. Weyoun kept up the eye contact, if Dukat could tell what he was thinking about, or rather trying not to think about he didn’t show it. Weyoun found it easy to find a rhythm with Dukat letting him know how well he was doing with each rumble out of his chest. He was getting even easier to read. 

Dukat pulled him off after a certain point, “Climb up here Weyoun.” He told him.

Doing as he was told was easy. It was what he knew. And right here, right now he was choosing to do it. It wasn’t a requirement he wouldn't lose anything by doing it. Dukat’s thighs were thin but all muscle. He was pulled into another kiss as Dukat put his hand down his pants now. Weyoun moaned into his mouth. Dukat was taking off Weyoun’s clothes. Weyoun helped. He was then pushed to lie flat on the table, Dukat looming over him.

A hand went from his stroking his ear down to putting two fingers into him. Dukat didn’t even get out of his clothes he just pulled down his pants and slid into him. Holding him, crushing him under his weight. Weyoun loved it. Dukat bit at his ear. And through the entire evening, since they had started the game Weyoun hadn’t thought about the Founders or his duties once. His guilt, his sin was not a priority for going on over half an hour. He loved every minute of that freedom. Weyoun came loudly and suddenly, Dukat following him shortly afterwards. 

Dukat stayed on top of him as they recovered. Weyoun enjoyed being held the most after sex. Something about it was so soothing till it was over. Standing back up Dukat pulled out of him, staring down at him for a moment. A hand following his eyes as he palmed Weyoun’s over sensitive slit all the way up to his collar.

“You did well Weyoun.” He still sounded a little out of breath, “We should do this again.” Dukat leaned down to peel Weyoun off of the table. 

He felt weak and just leaned into Dukat drowsily, “We should.” After all it was just a game. What harm could a game do?

End Chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

Weyoun has been Dukat’s property for over two weeks. And it seemed they reached some form of routine. Dukat’s overbearing libido seemed to have finally settled into something more tolerable. Those first few days they were fucking three or four times a day to a point where Weyoun just didn’t put on any clothes one day. That seemed to only arouse Dukat more, especially after he was punished for disobeying an order. Which Weyoun didn’t mind, the punishments seemed to be the same as their previous games...for now. 

They had found a certain equilibrium together. Dukat would get up and get ready and give Weyoun orders for the day before leaving. Sometimes he would come for lunch other times he would eat out. He’d come home, either right after his shift or he would stay out late with Damar. They’d chat or play a game and usually end up fucking in some form. It could be worse. The padd was certainly helping. The games were all against a computer but that was better than no games at all. Weyoun had never been a reader but he was getting so bored he started it up.

However it was clear Dukat wanted to take him out. He would mention every few days how he wanted to take him to the Promenade as if Weyoun had never been there despite having gotten food from the replimate there less than a month ago. Not that Weyoun would have turned down the opportunity. He was starting to get a bit antsy being stuck in the same set of rooms for weeks with only the same set of stars to look at. And as much as Weyoun hated to admit it he was getting lonely. He never thought he’d miss the Jem’Hadar but here he was wishing he had some white so they’d come to see him. Even if it was just to glare at him, at least he wouldn’t be alone for a few minutes.

Dukat’s remedy to this was to either bring food from the few restaurants that were there or bring Weyoun a gift of some sort. They usually weren’t things he’d get but anything new felt like a treat after weeks of the same walls except Ziyal’s room. He wasn’t allowed in Ziyal’s room. Dukat had given him clothes mainly. Clothes that he wanted him to try on right away. Then said clothes would usually end up on the floor not long after. But he had given him a few things that he did appreciate. Such as a carved wooden Lopp figurine. He liked to touch the intricate groves carved into it’s surface. Or the set of cards he gave him which gave him some games that he can physically interact with. Weyoun was keeping them in his room. And Dukat was right he wasn’t getting much use out of it whenever Dukat was home.

And as things began to roll closer to a month the more Dukat was spending time elsewhere. At first Weyoun was fine with this. He enjoyed having a bit more time to himself. But when Dukat would stay out till all hours and only come home to sleep(if he came at all) he wouldn’t have the time to give Weyoun attention. And Weyoun was desperately craving attention from the only person he’s seen in almost a month. If Weyoun 5 had seen the way he started hanging all over and was clinging to Dukat as soon as he’d come home now he’d be ashamed of himself. It’s not that Weyoun LIKED it he just couldn’t help it. Not that Dukat minded his attempts to squeeze more attention out of him. He seemed to thrive at starving Weyoun for company with only tiny morsels to keep him a float.

When Dukat was home it was easier. Not only because then he’d get someone to talk to but it made it easier to deal with his life being this way. When Dukat was around he had something more elaborate than the same games he’s beaten several times now. When Dukat was around Weyoun could dive into the fantasy that this was just them playing their games. That fantasy never held up though. It’d keep him going till they’d go to sleep but when they woke up and Dukat got to leave while he was trapped here he’d get trampled by the reality of the situation all over again.

Dukat was in for lunch. Weyoun was finding little ways to keep himself distracted. Right now he was playing his ongoing game against himself. He was kissing along Dukat’s ridges listening to him brag about his time fighting the Klingons, one of his hands on Dukat’s thigh. The point of the game was to keep Dukat with him for as long as possible during his lunch break. His record was about 6 minutes after his shift had started. Weyoun wanted to make it up to ten. He couldn’t go right out the gate with things or else Dukat would just laugh and shove him away. Desperation didn’t work. The most successful strategy was to work him up over the hour. Of course it only worked if Dukat was in a good mood. When he was in a bad mood at best he could help cool him down but generally Weyoun avoided him when he was angry.

Dukat leaned down to kiss him. That was a good step forward. Dukat easily got lost in kissing and it was already close to the end of his hour. So stealing a few more minutes of his day seemed likely. He shifted so he was straddling him a hand reaching back to squeeze his ass and pull him closer. Dukat pushed him away two minutes after he was supposed to leave. 

“I’ll be back later today.” Dukat gave one more kiss with a bite to his lip before he left.

Another thing the lunch games were doing was increasing the likelihood that Dukat would come home for the night. When he had to leave for a mission or visit Cardassia Prime Dukat would always tell him. Leaving Weyoun to only communicate through the padd. But lately Dukat had started spending the occasional night somewhere else. In the past two weeks he’d spent four nights somewhere else and he’d showered there to since he wouldn’t come home till lunch. But when Weyoun got him worked up during lunch he’d almost always come to him.

Left alone again Weyoun opened up his padd. It’d gotten so dull he’d sometimes message Dukat while he was at work. He tried to not do it too often. Like with getting anything out of someone you don’t want them to know how desperate you want it. You want them to think they need something out of you more than you need something out of them. At least some of his old skills were getting some use.

He needed to get Dukat to give him another padd or something. He’d read the books that were on here and had beaten each of these games a few times now. Weyoun didn’t even like Cardassian literature but reading ate up some of the 10-14 hours a day Dukat wasn’t at home. He did what he could to keep himself distracted till the time for Dukat’s shift to be over came. This was probably the most agonizing part of his day. He’d waited all day and here he was waiting some more. Sitting on the couch he could never get himself to do anything while he counted down the hours after Dukats shifts. Ears on high alert for his familiar steps. 

When he heard a pair of feet walking down the hall he’d assumed like it was every previous time that they was going somewhere else. He’d just squashed the disappointment when he heard them stop outside the door and the familiar sound of it unlocking reached him. It’d been two hours since Dukat’s shift was over. Weyoun got up to go look like he was doing something. Just because he was waiting around for him all day doesn’t mean he wanted to look like it.

He laid down on the couch opening the chapter to his reread of Meditations on a Crimson Shadow. It became clear who was with Dukat when the door opened and he could hear their voices clearly now. Dukat was the first he saw, he’d walked to the couch a smile spreading on his face when he saw him. Damar went to sit on one of the arm chairs, Kanar bottle in hand.

They locked eyes for a moment. Damar grimaced at him while Weyoun glared back. The memory of his death still fresh in his mind. Deaths were a strange thing for Vorta. Some claimed that they could remember all of their deaths as clearly as if they’d just happened. Others that they were the first memories to fade with a new body. Weyoun had more of a mix of experiences. The death of Weyoun 3 was one he couldn’t remember much of his actual death, ship explosions tended to kill you pretty quickly. Weyoun 4 was shot by his Jem’Hadar and that wasn’t large in his memory. 

Both Weyoun 1 and 2 were memorable for the lead up to his death. Weyoun 2 having died of starvation and while his death wasn’t heavy in his mind the pain of starving the weeks before was. He had also suspected that the level of trauma he’d experienced from Weyoun 2’s death is why his memories were so heavily corrupted. The engineering skills he’d been trained in were all pretty much lost which was why he’d been demoted to commanding a ship in his third life. Weyoun 1 had died from being killed by his Jem’Hadar when his ship full of genetic material for testing had crashed and they’d ran out of white. The death he doesn’t remember but he remembers the fear of being hunted. His geneticist skills were also lost to him. He sometimes wanted to ask an older clone line like Keevan who was on his 14th iteration his thoughts but older clone lines seemed especially bitter and less cooperative with other Vorta.

In his experience only the latest death held much hold which was why he couldn’t stop thinking about it for several minutes after he saw Damar. Even when Dukat sat on the couch and dragged him over to lay on him it hadn’t pulled him out. It as the cool palm that slid up the back of his shirt, causing him to shudder that had him reeled back into what was currently happening.

“...the last time we played Korta was when we were both so stinking drunk I’d woken up still at the board, all the pieces scattered on the floor.” Damar laughed out.

“I remember Ziyal’s scream from stepping on one of them and nearly tripping over you in the dark.” Dukat chuckled.

He was in Dukat’s lap making it easy to hide the hand creeping up his back. The Ziyal comment had an odd sort of silence spread between the two men. Both of them pausing to take an awkward drink. This was one of those times Weyoun hated being out of the loop. He’d distinctly remembered Damar not liking Ziyal and wondered what had happened that had such an awkward silence take hold just at the mention of her.

Damar looked at Weyoun as he finished the bottle, “I’m going to grab another bottle from your quarters before you decide to just skip out.” Dukat said attracting Damar’s attention.

“That’s private property you know.” Damar slurred out.

“It’s being commandeered for the war effort.” That had a light laugh out of the both of them.

Dukat’s hand retreated as he got up to rob Damar of another bottle. As the door hissed closed Weyoun became very aware of how alone he was with Damar. The silence felt heavy between them.

“You don’t look worse off.” Damar commented waving in his general vicinity. 

Weyoun huffed, “As if you care.”

Damar rolled his eyes, “You can be as salty about it as you want we both knew you’d come back. YOU were the one who ruined your career.” That peeked Weyoun’s interest.

“Like I’d take career advice from you Damar. Not like you’ve moved from Dukat’s heels in over a decade.” Weyoun couldn’t hide the venom in his voice.

“At least I can move if I wanted to. You’ll be stuck here for as long as you keep in line. And it looks to me like the Federation doesn’t appreciate your shifting sides anymore than we do. Otherwise why would you be here? They may be soft but even they don’t want someone as spineless and sniveling as you. Was it worth it? Hm. Being important for a few minutes? To betray what you’ve worked for decades for the approval of a single shapeshifter? And where’s he at? Not here, seems he also doesn’t care. Was it worth getting you where you’re at now? Cause it doesn’t look like it from where I’m sitting.” Damar looked very pleased with the bitter look Weyoun had on his face.

Before Weyoun could respond Dukat came back, bottle in hand. Damar squinted at Weyoun for a moment longer before he shifted his attention to Dukat and the mood changed back to a more jovial one for them. But not for Weyoun, he sat stewing on the knowledge he’d just gotten. He knew the Federation was involved with his treason but Odo as well? And why did being abandoned by Odo feel more stabbing than when the rest of the Founders discarded him? Why was there always something new to bring him low? Especially after starting to think he couldn’t feel worse about himself.

End of Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting close to caught up with what I've already written.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the chapter that most of the worst tags are for. 
> 
> Tags for this chapter: strangulation, physical abuse, sexual abuse, graphic physical abuse, graphic depictions of violence 
> 
> There is a graphic strangulation scene that I've surrounded by *** as a warning I'll try to summarize what happens in there in the end notes for people who want to skip it.

Dukat was asleep but after napping so often now Weyoun just couldn’t get himself to drift off. Damar’s words still heavy on his mind. Slidding out of Dukat’s slack hold he sat up. Weyoun noticed the padd Dukat seemed to be so fond of sitting on his end table. Desperately wanting to know what was happening outside of these walls he moved to the edge of the bed. He thought he could move past his betrayal. Move on to accept his current life. But when he didn’t even know what he had done how was he supposed to accept his punishent? When Dukat didn’t stir he slip on his pants. Standing up he could feel the disgusting trickle down his leg that sent a shiver through him. But he managed to keep his focus on Dukat as he silently walked around him, keeping his keen ears open for the slightest sound that he was waking up. 

Gently picking up the padd he walked out to the main room. But that felt too in the open he needed somewhere secure, somewhere Dukat wouldn’t look at first. So he went to Ziyal’s room. Going inside he always found the way Dukat seemed to just keep it exactly like it was a little eerie. Occasionally after he was done with his shift Dukat would just walk around Ziyal’s room staring at things, touching them before placing them exactly where they were. Mumbling things that he’d rather not remember. Wherever Ziyal was Weyoun hoped it was far away from here.

He decided to crawl under the bed. The carpet was softer than expected as he laid down to scroll through the padd. Honestly he was expecting it to be encrypted or to require a code but it didn’t. It became clear why when inside was mainly just picture files. Still Weyoun has been bored and nosing about in Dukat’s business behind his back would at least make him feel better. Why not snoop through his stuff? It’s not like Dukat was being open and honest with him. He could have been destroyed without his knowledge if Dukat hadn’t decided to ‘save’ him. So he began scrolling through them. At first he thought they were photos of Dukat’s family as several pictures of smiling Cardassian women went by. 

It was when he reached the Bajoran women that a strange sort of panic began to rise in him. He started scrolling faster. He knew none of these women but he knew this picture. There was the occasional man from a species who’s name he couldn’t remember but who were under Cardassian rule. Each of their faces were different but he KNEW this picture. He kept scrolling dread weaving with the panic inside of him. Each new picture, each new woman made that dread spike higher till he reached it. His picture, or the picture Dukat had taken OF him. Apparently for his collection. The pose was the same once it got passed the Cardassian women. Kneeling with feet under, hands resting on your knees looking up with a collar, Dukat’s hand holding your face up. 

Weyoun stared at his own face looking up at him. He stared till his eyes grew dry and he stared some more. It was when tears tried to escape his eyes and he went to rub them away that his finger skimmed over the padd causing it to scroll to the next and last picture. It froze him as a strange sensation filled him so fully that he didn’t even realize that he was walking. He was accessing memories and skills he’d thought he’d forgotten. As if possessed he rerouted the locked door with ease, something Weyoun 2 had known how to do but he had thought to have been lost due to data corruption. Weyoun stepped outside and started walking his mind was blank but his feet knew exactly where they needed to go.

It was a late shift and the habitat ring had always had low security. And besides his old quarters weren’t far from Dukat’s. He rerouted the door like he hadn’t lost this ability generations ago. Going inside it was eerie to see his old rooms. They were essentially exactly the same, the one main difference was Keevan walking out of the washroom. Keevan froze for just an instant at seeing him.

“Computer call security here NOW!” Keevan said his voice cracking.

Weyoun walked towards him. He hadn’t felt sure of anything since waking in his final body but he felt sure of this. Keevan backed into the wall watching him.

“I don’t know what you expected to get from coming here?” He was trying to slide away from his oncoming steps, “If you want revenge even if you managed to kill me I’ll be back unlike you who are on your last body and last favor.” The fear in his voice evident as Weyoun got closer.

Weyoun didn’t say anything he just held out the padd in his hand. Keevan had a look of confusion before taking it from him. Activating it he got a stony look.

“What? Jealous?” Keevan didn’t sound very assured about that.

“Scroll back.” Weyoun said watching Keevan with such clarity in his mind.

Keevan huffed but did as he said. Weyoun stood there and watched him. With each picture Weyoun watched as horror, disgust and realization washed over him. Weyoun watched him calmly even when security came and dragged him out. His eyes stayed on Keevan till Keevan looked up and their eyes met before the door shut between them.

It suddenly felt like he could breath again. His body feeling like his own instead of being a passenger. He flexed his eyes searching momentarily confused as to where he was. He remembered what he just did but it didn’t ‘feel’ real. Like he had done it in a dream. The Cardassians hauling him took his flex as struggling. The one on his right ripped him out of the others hand to slam him into the wall. It was here Weyoun realized he was mostly naked, covered in healing bruises with Dukat’s leavings drying disgustingly on his leg. There was no question of what had happened to him right before this and he felt very exposed.

His hair was gripped and his head pulled up, “I’m surprised a little cocksleeve like you managed to get passed the door.” Looking at him he didn’t recognize this Cardassian, “I’m sure it won’t take much to teach you some respect for the mercy our Gul has decided to favor you with.” The Cardassian leaned down crushing him, “A quick reminder of where you’ll be without him should be all that’s needed.”

Weyoun did recognize the Glinn who put a hand on the other Cardassians shoulder to pull him off of Weyoun, “I doubt the Gul would appreciate damage to his property without his permission.” Glinn Khet, head of security said taking Weyoun by the arm and pulling him behind him.

The other Cardassian puffed up, “He tried to assassinate the Dominion representative.”

He couldn’t see the Glinn’s expression but he could hear the dismissive tone, “With no weapon and wearing nothing but a pair of trousers? I doubt it.” There was a pause as they stared at each other for a moment before he heard the sound of the communicator, “Gul Dukat it seems your pet has gotten out. I’ll return him to your quarters.” Turning it off he looked at the other man, “I think it’d be best if you leave unless you’d like me to tell Dukat about your attempted damaging of his property?” 

The Cardassian’s face paled before nodding and walking away. The Glinn watched him for a moment before turning to lead Weyoun back to Dukat’s quarters. They walked in silence till they reached the door.

“That wasn’t very smart of you.” The Glinn said before chiming the door.

Dukat stormed out before Weyoun could respond. His eyes landing with such rage on Weyoun. Weyoun tried to take a step back and the Glinn didn’t stop him from shying behind him.

“What is the meaning of this?” Dukat asked the anger clear in his voice his eyes following Weyoun.

“We found Weyoun in the Ambassador’s quarters. I will look into how he got out right away.” The Glinn said matter of factly.

There was a pause before Dukat put out his hand, “Give him here I’ll keep a good hold of him till then.” His tone made his skin crawl.

A barest moment of hesitance on the Glinn’s part was noticed at least by Weyoun before he handed him over. Yet he didn’t leave just yet he pulled out a device to scan the door. He stood right in the doorway so the door couldn’t close. Weyoun was thankful for the brief delay.

“I’ll need to scan the Ambassador’s door but it looks like there was a program malfunction.” What? “If this is correct than it waved through the whole habitat ring making it so the next time the doors sensors was activated it would open regardless of being locked. Most likely a remnant of Federation coding to ensure quick evacuation.” Why is he lying? “I’ll make sure to correct this issue myself so this doesn’t happen at a more inopportune time.” The Glinn looked at Dukat having not once looked at Weyoun yet there was no way that scanner couldn’t see the clear rerouting Weyoun had done.

“Yes go on ahead but will it stay locked now?” Dukat asked frustrated with the Glinn lingering.

“Yes. There shouldn’t be any further problems with it.” He answered his lie undetectable unless you knew the truth.

“Very well thank you Glinn.” Dukat dismissed him. The Glinn bowed as he rose his eyes briefly meet Weyoun’s before he turned to leave.

***  
As soon as the Glinn was gone Dukat’s grip turned deeply painful, claws digging into his flesh. He gave a pathetic cry. The other hand grabbed him painfully by the throat, he could feel his laranx compressing under the strain. Weyoun wheezed. 

“Why do I get the impression that the malfunction was a little too convenient, hm?” Dukat lowered his face to Weyoun’s forcing him to look into his brutal stare, “And what reason would you have to go to Keevan’s quarters I wonder?” Weyoun let out another pained breath, “ANSWER ME!” Dukat yelled in his face with a shake that had his head snapping back painfully.

“I..” He tried to take a breath, the fear was so strong he felt like he was vibrating with it, “I didn’t know the door was unlocked. I just walked up to it and it opened.” The breaking of his voice had Dukat let out a satisfied sigh, his grip loosening a bit around his throat, “I thought you’d left it open. I just wanted to see if any of my things were left in my old quarters I didn’t know Keevan would be there.” Weyoun was terrified and every bit of that was a lie. But if Weyoun was anything he was a skilled liar.

Dukat chuckled darkly releasing his grip on his arm to wipe at Weyoun’s tear streaked face he left a sticky layer of blood behind, “I guess I haven’t given you enough to do it seems.” He had a sinister smile, “I’ll just have to find something to keep you busy. We don’t want another one of these excursions do we? Since this is your first time disobeying I’ll punish you lightly.” Dukat shoved him onto the sofa.

Weyoun’s head smacking into the hard part of the couch. He was barely able to take another breath before Dukat was on him. His legs crushing his arms, using his greater size and weight to pin Weyoun down. Hands went to undo his collar but not to take it off but to tighten it. He pulled on the leather causing it to constrict around his already bruising throat. Other hand rose to force his mouth open he could taste his own blood on Dukat’s fingers.

“Don’t close your eyes if you know what’s good for you.” Dukat’s voice was dripping with sadistic pleasure, he maintained eye contact, his eyes piercing him, as if they were sucking the air out of him instead of the collar.

Weyoun thrashed under him. He could hear himself, struggling to try and breath. His lungs were burning he wasn’t sure how much he would take and then it was over. Dukat let go and Weyoun took a huge gulp of air. The hand that had held his mouth open was now stroking up and down his soaking wet face. Weyoun coughed, his arms still pinned under Dukat. A wracking sob left him despite his best efforts to keep control of himself.

Dukat leaned down so his face was pressed to Weyoun’s tear stained one. He was shushing him, “There that wasn’t so bad.” He kissed his forehead, Dukat’s breaths were deep, it was now Weyoun noticed the pleased rumbling in his chest, “See I’ve been very lenient with you Weyoun and it will remain that way as long as you behave.” Weyoun could feel his throat swelling.

“I’ll behave.” He managed to croak out.

Another deep rumble ran through Dukat’s chest, “I can’t protect you if you leave. This is for your own good do you understand?” Weyoun didn’t immediately respond which had Dukat grabbing at his bruised throat. Weyoun tried to flinch away, “Do you UNDERSTAND Weyoun? Say it.”

Taking in a deep shaking breath, “I understand.” The breaking of his voice hurt to hear, “I completely understand Dukat.” He pleaded to Dukat who was petting down his face and through his hair.

Weyoun’s limbs felt numb when Dukat climbed off of him to sit on the couch. He grabbed Weyoun by the ankle to pull him down onto the floor. Trying to sit up Dukat grabbed his head and pulled him forward. Pulling his pants down his prUt was everted it was clear what Dukat wanted from him. Weyoun tried to go on autopilot. He’d done this before it wasn’t hard but he couldn’t stop the tears escaping, or his shoulders shaking. Dukat seemed unbothered and stroked through his hair with such frightening tenderness. It didn’t take Dukat long. He sat long enough to watch Weyoun swallow before shoving him aside to go to the washroom. It was now that he couldn’t hold back the sobbing. He managed to keep as quiet as possible but now he was being consumed by sound.  
***

A soft rapping behind him had him suddenly stop. As if all of the emotions had been sucked out of him. Looking over his shoulder he could see Keevan in the doorway a finger to his lips the other hand holding out the padd. With sudden realization he stood up and grabbed the padd. Their eyes meet for a moment before Keevan let go and left. Weyoun’s sensitive ears could hear Dukat moving around the bathroom.

With adrenaline fueling him he was able to return the padd to exactly where it was on the nightstand before returning to sitting on the floor in front of the couch. Since he’d awoken he’d felt he’d lost what little control he had over his life. As if he had lost what little purpose he had and there was no point in remaining alive. But hearing Dukat enter the room knowing he’d pulled one over on him. Knowing that he’d personally ruined one of Dukat’s plans made him feel like he finally had some control. That dying meant he would miss out on watching Dukat fall and even before, when he’d thought they were on equal footing. He had been looking forward to watching Dukat lose. And no matter who won the war Dukat would still end up losing and wasn’t that worth being around to see?

End of Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary of scene: Dukat strangles Weyoun with the collar to punish him and tells him he's doing it for his own good before making him give him oral and then abandoning him.
> 
> I've just accepted that I've written Dukat like a serial killer for this fic.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: violent sex

It was surreal. How tender Dukat was being. The moment he came out of the bathroom it was like what he had just done was an accident, like Weyoun had tripped or something. Dermal regenerator in one hand the other gently holding his face while he repaired the damage HE had done. Removing the proof of what HE did. Weyoun could feel the swelling go down, hear his breathing get less raspy as the tissue of his throat was repaired. This seemed worse. 

“There, that must feel better hm.” It wasn’t a question.

“This is why you need to be more careful Weyoun. I need to trust you won’t put yourself in danger.” As if it’s Weyoun’s fault for Dukat hurting him.

He was petting his face. It didn’t feel as good now. “You look exhausted. Lets go to bed.” Dukat picked him off the floor, “I’ve got you.” Dukat kissed him on the cheek, “You’re my Weyoun after all.”

Dukat found it easy to drift off to sleep. Why wouldn’t he? This was how he loved to sleep. Pinning Weyoun to him. Weyoun was too afraid to sleep. It’s not that he hadn’t known. This would have happened eventually. Dukat, even when things go his way isn’t the most stable individual. But now he couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t push it down and pretend. The illusion that he’d been running on for weeks was cracked, it wouldn’t hold. Then what? What would he do? What could he do? He can’t just go back to pretending that this is just one of their games. Weyoun had managed to do that when Dukat was home, it’s what had made his days more tolerable. But what now? He wasn’t sure how he was gonna be able to maintain it. 

Dukat’s alarm let him know he’d been up the whole night. Mind trapped in a loop. Dukat went about his morning like usual. As if last night had just been any other. He came back from the washroom. Weyoun tried to not flinch when he grabbed his chin.

“Get cleaned up, get something to eat and then change the sheets.” The back of his fingers rubbing against the collar, “You should take a nap too, you look tired.” He leaned down and kissed him so sweetly. What the hell was happening? “You should take better care of yourself Weyoun. I don’t like seeing you like this.” He left one more soft peck on his lips.

Weyoun tried to follow his lips when he pulled away. He didn’t want him to stop. Opening his eyes he could see how pleased that made Dukat. He ran his thumb over Weyoun’s lower lip then left. The sound of the retreating footsteps seemed loud. That wasn’t fair. Giving him a small taste of attention to only leave him. However his ears did notice the lack of the sound of the lock. That’s right he rerouted the doors and Glinn Khet had covered for him. This was all so confusing. From what he recalled Glinn Khet was like every other Cardassian stooge. Nose focused on promotion and covering up his vices.

Did something happen with the Glinn and Weyoun 6? Possibly. The conversation with Damar felt like a week ago not last night. That still had him shaken. What he did he do to deserve this? He still didn’t know. He might be able to fish more out of Damar if he antagonized him but his cutting remarks hit much deeper now that he was the second person to speak to him in about a month. It wasn’t as easy to brush aside. Which just pissed Weyoun off. How had he allowed himself fall so far? He used to take the worst of insults like they were nothing but just the usual sort of quarrel with Damar left him feeling weak. Maybe because he was weak? It’s not like he had any power to hold himself up anymore. He had no position in the Dominion, a position he had earned through generations of loyalty.

Weyoun missed his Jem’Hadar. Not because he liked them or even because he missed being above someone. No he missed them because they were always there. It’s amazing how something so central to your life that you thought of as a nuisance would be the first thing you missed when it was gone. The only time in his life he’d been without the Jem’Hadar was after the outpost sabotage. That version of the white wasn’t their current perfected formula and had been poisoned by the saboteurs. Leaving Weyoun and the three other Vorta vulnerable to the pirates who stole Dominion technology before leaving Weyoun as the sole survivor. He didn’t like being alone. Weyoun didn’t want to be alone again. 

It was hard but Weyoun managed to pull himself out of Dukat’s bed and get through his tasks. A shower helped like it always did. Getting clean was so far his favorite part of the day. Eating was harder. He was healed, there was nothing wrong with his throat but for some reason swallowing was difficult. It was making him feel like he was loosing his mind. There was nothing physically wrong with him why was this so hard? He did manage to finish eating but it took him nearly a half an hour longer than usual. A nap he was excited for. As the weeks have gone on he’s been getting most of his sleep while Dukat was at work. Weyoun just felt more at ease when he was out. His dreams were less restless and when he would wake up it felt like he slept unlike when Dukat was asleep next to him.

There was nothing he was more thankful for than that bed. If Dukat came home for lunch he didn’t come in to wake him up. Weyoun had slept most of Dukat’s shift and was still feeling so tired. Rolling over he had intended to just get up in a few more minutes but ended up waking up by being shook awake.

Dukat sitting next to him, one arm keeping him sequestered towards the wall, “There’s my Weyoun.” In his sleepy haze Weyoun couldn’t stop himself from flinching away.

Dukat had noticed, a sigh left him, “You can’t expect to just get a slap on the wrist anymore Weyoun.” What the hell was he talking about? Vorta were killed when they disobeyed, “This is serious. I have very simple rules and when you break them it makes me look like I can’t control you. Now can you imagine what will happen to you if the Dominion decides you are incapable of adapting?” Death obviously, “It won’t be good so if you just do as I say than we can avoid a repeat of last night.” There was a pause.

“I understand sir.” Weyoun responded.

Dukat smiled at him, “Good. Now come out and sit with me.” He squeezed Weyoun’s thigh through the sheets before getting up.

Weyoun took a minute to compose himself before he followed. Dukat was in his usual spot on the couch, his favorite padd in hand. A wave of panic washed over Weyoun but quickly dissipated. If Dukat had suspected him of taking his things than he would have confronted him about it already. He was too short sited to ever not retaliate to a slight. With practiced ease he walked over and curled up around Dukat. Already out of his armor he sat down his padd as soon as he got close enough. Arms encircling him. The sensation Weyoun was feeling was so odd. Apart of him, the one who very much remembers last night was terrified to being so close to him. But the other, the one who had gotten used to him. Who got his only form of comfort and attention from him for a month now wanted to just ease into him.

It left Weyoun frozen. While it would be in his best interest to act like he did before last night. For some reason he couldn’t just slip into that feeling of security as easily as he used to. Without that blanket over his emotions how was he supposed to do this?

Dukat must have been watching him because he grabbed his chin and kissed him. Weyoun wasn’t even fond of kissing that much but after weeks of kisses meaning he was doing good. That he was safe. It was hard to not slip a little further into that feeling. Weyoun didn’t have a lot of options open to him right now. Sure since Cardassians have terrible hearing Dukat hasn’t noticed that the door hasn’t been locking since yesterday but who knows what defensive measures have been changed since he was in charge. And where would he go? He’d have one good chance to use this to his advantage and he’d best save it for when he needs it.

For now he just really needed to stop being upset over last night. He needs to convince himself that things are fine. Dukat used his left hand to pull Weyoun into his lap. Right hand migrating from his chin to the back of his neck. Those same fingers on the collar had a chill spike up his spine but it was getting easier. Weyoun kissed him back his hands went from Dukat’s chest to rub at his ridges. Dukat groaned into his mouth. The arms around him were helping. Focusing on that he was able to finish slipping into the warm bath of that feeling. When Dukat pulled away he let out a deep sigh as he’d finally relaxed.

The rumble vibrating out of Dukat’s chest wasn’t a bother now. Rolling them over so Dukat was on top of him one hand traced his jaw. The other was down his pants trying to slip two fingers into him. Weyoun’s hands were gripping at Dukat’s shoulders. To push him away or pull him closer, it didn’t matter because Dukat leaned back to rip off Weyoun’s pants and underwear. He was quickly back on him, now with much easier access to him. Dukat was biting at his neck, pressing the collar a little tighter. A strange moan left him but he managed to cover it since three fingers stroking him from the inside. Crushing him under his weight Dukat’s breaths were coming out in pants. 

That string of Kardassi where he repeated how he owned Weyoun was coming out of his mouth again. Hands briefly left his hips to pull his own pants down his ass to go back to crushing the air out of Weyoun. But now with a little extra help from being inside of him. Weyoun was having difficulty keeping his volume down. The broken moans escaping him seemed to only feed into Dukat fucking him a little harder, a little faster. A bite that broke through his skin made Weyoun scream. The rumbling growls out of Dukat’s chest vibrated deep into him. He could feel it all the way to the tips of his ears. Weyoun tightened a little around Dukat.

Dukat stopped biting at his neck to bite at his lips. He could taste his own blood in his mouth. Moaning his thighs were trembling. Weyoun felt like Dukat was devouring him. Like at any moment he would start sinking into Dukat till there was nothing left of him. His arms were trapped, his hands only able to fist at the cushions. Weyoun in his arousal and fear drunken haze took a while to realize what was happening. Dukat was fucking him into the couch where he had strangled him not even a day ago. Pinning him down and forcing the breath out of him. The stroking inside of him was violent, it hurt and he wanted Dukat to keep going. 

It did happen, it wasn’t just him. Dukat stopped claiming his mouth to pull back and stare down at him with blown out pupils. His look dark, harsh, fully pleased with the site Weyoun saw reflected in his eyes. Weyoun whined with the loss of weight off his chest. He wanted Dukat to come back down, to crush him, break him again. But just a little, just enough to prove that last night was real, that Weyoun wasn’t the only one who cared, who was affected by it. He needed it, more than he needed the air in his lungs.

Weyoun stretched his neck up. Reaching as far as he could, pulling the muscles of his neck. His lips touching Dukat’s chin, eyes still locked on Dukat’s gaze. He felt Dukat pause as he watched him. Weyoun rarely took the initiative but he needed him to come back down and hurt him again. Dukat let out a breath as Weyoun opened his mouth and that breath turned into a moan as he bit him on the chin. Clawed fingers came to his jaw to rip him off of him. Weyoun’s teeth were flat, blunt, but he could see the slightest indent in Dukat’s chin. The grip on his face was so strong he could feel the pain in his jawbone. Dukat’s eyes were dangerous as he panted above him. 

Weyoun felt so calm and so ready for when Dukat shoved him back into the couch. The moan that broke out of Weyoun’s throat had Dukat on him. Grip on his jaw left to wrap around his neck. It wasn’t even tight but he felt his voice crack at the contact, like the piece of him that cracked inside. Teeth were digging into his jaw and Dukat was fucking him again. Weyoun moaned at that, the fucking and that crushing weight. His scales felt like they were grinding off a layer of his skin. Good, he wanted it. He wanted a layer to be peeled off, that layer that tried to build up. That layer that said that last night didn’t matter. Because it did, because Dukat was stealing the air from him and hurting him. 

And it hurt, he could feel himself bleeding. Dukat’s eyes were hooded and had a drunk, almost feral look to them. Like when the Jem’Hadar had to go longer without the white. Weyoun loved that look, he wanted to keep it. Leaning to Dukat he licked where he had bit him and Dukat groaned. The vibrations of it matching with that rumbling growl in him. Those vibrations spreading into Weyoun tingling so wonderfully in conflict with the pain radiating from his face and throat. His teeth skimmed over the fading indents of his bite and that had Dukat coming. Pressing down on him harder, hurting him just a little bit more.

Pulling away had the hot air that had built up between them scatter with the cool influx of new air. Weyoun whined as he pulled out and away from him. He noticed how his shirt was clinging to him with sweat, his hair sticking to his face. Trembling he hadn’t come yet. Dukat was staring at him, hands resting on Weyouns thighs. Feeling Weyoun tremble under his palms. Pants still hanging loosely on his hips. His touch was gentle as moved to lift Weyoun’s thighs, spreading them a little farther.

“You continue to surprise me Weyoun.” Hands now gripping his ass he leaned down to meet them, “I’m glad.” His breath moving over his aroused sex, “I thought you were all out of surprises.”

A gentle kiss right above his entrance. Weyoun could feel Dukat grinning into him when he let out a whine. It was strikingly slow and leisurely compared this was to the fucking they were just doing. When Weyoun would try to press closer Dukat would move with him. Not allowing him to add that extra friction he needed. The build was long and torturous. His thighs were straining from being spread so wide. The throbbing of the bites on his neck and jaw a reminder of the violence he just suffered while Dukat was torturing him with affection right now. Reaching up he pressed into the bites. They had stopped bleeding but the added pain helped. Dukat was watching him, watching him hurt himself while he was being ate out. He didn’t stop him he just watched him. His tongue working his insides just a little faster. It’s what had Weyoun coming. That pain and that fake gentleness. Because that was what was fake about their relationship. The affection, those gentle contacts. He realized it now, that was the game. This pain, it was the reality.

End of Chapter 9


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: physical abuse

Weyoun’s jaw and throat was throbbing and he wanted to go and see the damage in the mirror. But Dukat had him pinned tighly to his chest. He seemed especially reluctant to loosen his grip even in his sleep. Attempts to shift out of his grasp had him stirring and that was a frightening site. Asleep Dukat looked peaceful, almost like a completely different person when his face wasn’t animated by his smug and envious gaze. But when he would stir his face would twist into an angry scowl. Like even in rest he knew when you were trying to escape him. Weyoun didn’t get much sleep that night. Just brief moments where he’d close his eyes to only open them immensity afraid as if he had sensed danger.

Oddly Dukat woke up a little early. It was strange to experience. The change in his breathing to the slow loosening of his limbs. Weyoun’s only experience with sleeping with another person is with Dukat and he had only gotten up with his alarm till now. He was kissing the back of his head. Hand over his pelvis began stroking him, trying to arouse him.

“I should be getting ready.” He murmured sleepily into Weyoun’s hair.

“You should.” Weyoun replied, his voice clear.

The rubbing over him was light, unhurried, even, “But then I’d leave.” Nose pressed deeply into his hair, “Would you miss me Weyoun? While I’m gone.”

Weyoun’s breathing grew deeper, “Yes.” The air he was pulling into his lungs felt too cold, to clean, “I always miss you.” It wasn’t a lie.

He shouldn’t tell him the truth but he did it anyways. How could he lie about something that his actions so blatantly showed how he felt. Dukat leaned down to kiss at his neck and shoulders. The hair rising at having that mouth on such a vulnerable part of him. It’s like each kiss was infused with ice that sent a shiver through him. Odd seeing how last night Dukat had his mouth on some much more intimate places and it hadn’t bothered him then.

Shifting, lips were on his jaw, nose behind his ear, “What would you want me to do if I stayed?” The fingers rubbing him had warmed from the contact, their pressure constant.

“I would..” That distrust felt heavy in him at that moment, “I would want you to hold me.” Still a lie wouldn’t come out.

“Really?” Teeth traced the flesh on his jaw, “Is that all you want?” 

The slightest pressure of a bite on the opposite side from the throbbing, scabbing one. Breath moving over his face. Fingers getting wet from the constant pressure and friction. Weyoun would try to press further into them but Dukat’s hold was firm. He had control of Weyoun’s body right now. It was frightening with undertones of arousing. Creating a writing mass inside of him. That mass surrounding and crushing his spirit, slowly. Dukat’s face moving over him slowly blocking the light.

Hiding Weyoun in his shadow, it was frightening him, “Yes.” He saw Dukat’s eyes in the corner of his vision, they were watching him, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Weyoun felt like he was gonna cry. “Are you gonna hold me?” His words were coming out shakily as he tried to hold in tears.

Dukat was kissing his cheekbone, hand pressed between Weyoun’s thighs, “Only a little.” Dukat’s words were said so tenderly, “Only when I want to.” Weyoun couldn’t hold in the sobbing breath completely.

Hand still petting his wet lips so softly, so slowly. While a cry broke out of him. He tried to suck it back in. Hold it in his lungs for as long as possible. But it was so hard. It was so hard while Dukat was watching him so intensely. Like he was etching this memory of breaking Weyoun down into the stone slab of his mind. That mass of that dark, consuming fearful lust was cracking him inside. Dukat’s eyes were hooded. So at peace while Weyoun was trying to keep those cracked pieces of himself from breaking away. Weyoun needed those, he needed to keep a hold of them. Even if the cracks cut him, he needed them. What would he be without them? Something Dukat created, had molded, to be used. So no he wasn’t letting them go. Something needed to be his, to be of him and not of Dukat’s making. 

A kiss to the side of his nose. Another to the edge of his mouth. Almost lovingly given. Unbothered by Weyoun’s cries. He wanted to ask him to stop, so desperately. But he knew that he wouldn’t and by asking it’d be telling. Telling Dukat just what was too much for him, what way to really hurt him. Because it was with this, tender loving touches. It hurt, it hurt so much because it wasn’t real.

His head was turned so Dukat could kiss his lips. Eyes still watching him with that hooded, contented look. Weyoun’s sounds were taken into Dukat’s mouth. He wasn’t stealing them from him, he was taking them. Swallowing them as if they gave him sustenance. Fingers still going at that steady, slow pace. Thighs tense as he tried to find some way to relieve this burning inside of him. 

Pulling away he kissed Weyoun on the forehead, “I have you Weyoun.” He whispered into his skin. Like he was branding it onto his skull, “You’re mine to hold.” Weyoun was shaking was he coming or was that just him sobbing? “To keep for as long as I want you.” He was definitely coming.

If Weyoun had any self worth left it escaped with the sound that Dukat tore out of him. That mass of fear and lust inside of him was hurting him so much. Cutting him from the inside so that all he could do was cry out. Dukat’s fingers still moving extending this moment as long as possible. He was kissing him again. Kisses in between shushing him. As if that would sooth him, calm him, from the state that Dukat had put him in.

The alarm went off.

One last kiss to his temple before Dukat got up and began going about his morning like any other. Weyoun stayed laying in bed. Stunned by the sudden shift in mood. It felt like ages before Dukat came back from the bathroom carrying the dermal regenerator. He wasn’t bothered when Weyoun flinched from him grabbing him, pulling him up by the arm. In a sitting position Dukat began healing the bites and bruises on his body. Weyoun wished he wouldn’t heal him. He wanted that proof, that it had happened. It always felt a little surreal afterwards. To know something had happened but have no evidence beyond your own memory, his own word. And even before this, when he was the Dominion representative he was a known liar. Who would believe him?

Not that he had anyone to tell. He wasn’t allowed to leave these rooms. Sure he COULD but to waste the broken lock on making himself a little less lonely by asking for help was ridiculous. There wasn’t anyone here who would help him. What he needed was a plan. And to start a plan he needed information. Unfortunately for Weyoun Dukat’s been avoiding talking about his renegade clone and the current state of the war. If only he had a way to contact someone else? 

It never took long, the healing. The usual marks were bruises and bites. Quick work which is why he’s yet to need to go to the infirmary. Or at least that’s what Dukat has said. Not that Weyoun necessarily wanted some Cardassian doctor to know the state Dukat kept putting him in. There wasn’t much room for caring about other people’s opinions in Weyoun’s mind anymore. He cared more about reassuring his own perception of reality. Especially since Dukat has taken up the habit of disagreeing with Weyoun’s memory on how things have been going. Acting and talking like Weyoun’s injuries were him getting into an accident instead of intentionally done by Dukat. Weyoun know what Dukat is doing, he’s trying to make him entirely reliant on him for all information. Even for his own memories but Weyoun refused to fall into that trap.

Weyoun had managed to pull himself into a more stable state while Dukat was healing him. Dukat gave his usual orders for the day. He leaned down to kiss Weyoun on the lips before he left. Abandoning him after hurting him once again. Dukat was a creature of habit at least. The silence beyond the usual hum of the station was welcomed. 

Things were escalating between him and Dukat. And with Dukat holding all the cards it wouldn’t be long before Weyoun folded completely. He needed something, anything to build towards. Something to keep himself, even in pieces together for. Or else he would be completely stomped out. Nothing but whatever Dukat has formed out of the mold he’s forced him in. Already he was doing worse than he could have imagined. If a basic spat with Damar was leaving him feeling weak and hollow there’s no telling how much worse things were going to get if he kept following Dukat’s lead. It was clear Dukat was leading him to a crash landing just to watch him burn up in the atmosphere.

Since he had looked through Dukat’s padd Weyoun has begun to think about those Bajoran women. Were their experiences similar to his? Or vastly different? Where were they now? Weyoun wanted to know. Because if they’re alive, if they can recover from this maybe he can. He had never meet a single one of them but he felt a connection to them. A stronger connection than he felt to anyone else before. Except maybe Keevan, at least now he feels a connection. Before Weyoun and Keevan had no previous history with one another. Despite Keevan’s old line they hadn’t crossed paths that often in the past. But what did their mutual connection to Dukat even mean? It’s not like Keevan was the trusting sort, no Vorta was. But Weyoun hadn’t been trusting either. He thought he had done a good job of holding Dukat at arms length. Clearly he had failed and the idea of seeing Keevan fall into the same trap as him was horrifying. 

But it’s hard to say for certain without having spoken to him about it. It seemed he has kept his secret of why he went to his quarters so far. Looking through his padd Weyoun began to think. The communications weren’t completely removed or else he wouldn’t be able to have contact with Dukat. Meaning the limitations on his padd was software not hardware. Theoretically he could get into and recode his padd back to the original communication operating system. However he doesn’t exactly have the know how easily on hand.

His engineer skills were still heavily corrupted. Just because he’d managed to tap into them the other night doesn’t mean he’ll be able to do so again. But it wouldn’t hurt to try. The only thing is how had he managed it before? Something had triggered it but what? He had been hiding under Ziyal’s bed looking over Dukat’s padd. Then it felt like his mind went blank with a strange sort of clarity of purpose. There has to be a way to tap into that?

He tried recreating the experience after he’d finished his tasks. Lying under Ziyal’s bed, his own padd in hand imagining those same pictures again. All that did was upset him. Maybe trying to connect with Weyoun 2 more would help. Vorta memories are strange. Since they pass from one generation to the next each generation usually has their own opinions on their previous selves which leads to a lot of chatter around said clone. It’s why it’s usually the first generations memories tend to be the most corrupted and static filled. While the most recent clone usually are the clearest since there is only one version’s thoughts over them.

Laying down on his bed he began to try and bring Weyoun 2’s memories back to the forefront. The most prominent memories were of the attack by the saboteurs and the weeks that followed. Wanting to avoid those ones he drifted to the harder to remember earlier memories. That static of previous other Weyoun’s impressions of the other Vorta on the station was like looking through a filter. Nothing was seeming to come of it. Something must have triggered it. What else could it be? Going through Weyoun 2’s memories something seemed familiar.

It was a memory from the attack. Weyoun 2 was hiding in a crawl space. Filled with fear from the screams of one of the other Vorta down the hall. If only he could get to the shuttles he’d be able to escape. But he’s not a good pilot so he’d need to grab Volus assuming he’s still alive. Since the saboteurs arrived they hacked the systems meaning he’d have to reroute all the doors between them. Volus was usually in ops or the cargo bay. The cargo bay was closest with only the door between this hall and the next hall and the door to cargo bay. He felt himself gear up prepared to work and not stop in his task no matter what. When his sensitive ears could hear the saboteurs down the hall retreat he made his move. This memory felt familiar. But not just because he rerouted several doors. No it was the emotion at the time. One of panic and the deep desire to find help, to flee.

Weyoun opened his eyes. Was that it? He needed a stronger memory that felt similar to his current emotional state? It would explain why he’s not been able to access them till recently. Weyoun hasn’t been trapped or isolated till now like he had been on that outpost. If that was it than that’d make things much easier. First he’d need to find a memory with coding. There were several he could pinpoint. Like his other memories there was heavy corruption with them. So he tried to focus on a specific one, corruption and all. 

He was out of food. All the Jem’Hadar and Vorta had been vaporized or shot out the air lock. The water was also running low. Being alone for weeks has been really getting to him. The outpost itself had enough power for another month but he wouldn’t last that long. Even if he did manage to boost the communications the likelihood anyone would pick up his signal period, let alone a Dominion friendly one was slim. The hallucinations weren’t helping. Like voices whispering in the distance. Sometimes he could make out a word or two. They always sounded malicious as if they were plotting against him. When he couldn’t take it anymore he’d run to try and find them for there to be nothing. It was always nothing. He was entirely alone for lightyears around.

This outpost had once had over three hundred manning it. Now the halls were silent. Just the sounds of the station going as it always has, uncaring about his plight. So he was boosting the communications tower. He’d taken several parts to boost the hardware now he just needed to recode the software. If only to hear someone else’s voice. Someone real, even if they never come or wish him dead. He could handle starving to death if only he could just not be alone, even for a moment.

It was the loneliness. He was of course not nearly as alone as Weyoun 2. But somehow tapping into that emotion, connecting with it allowed him an in to those skills. Like before his mind felt clear, his body like it wasn’t his own. As if he was a copilot. And he did it. Realization he succeeded at hacking his padd had that deep breath like he’d been under water brought him back into himself. It seemed to be a side effect of entering his memories like that. Feeling like he wasn’t himself. 

Asking the computer the time it was about Dukat’s lunch hour. In future he’d need to be more careful about his timing. If he did this again and Dukat walked in who knows how he’ll react. Dukat came in with take out from the Bajoran restaurant that did food from the Southern Hemisphere if his sense of smell was correct. 

Looking over at him Dukat had a beaming smile, “You look like you haven’t slept a wink.” He sat the boxes on the table, “I brought some for you Weyoun”

Oh was this suppose to be an apology gift for this morning? “Of course.” If it is it’s a poor one given Weyoun’s lack of taste.

Sitting down next to him he made himself a plate. His hands were shaking. There is no way Dukat could know what he’s planing he really needed to get a hold of himself. If he can’t it’ll only make Dukat suspicious. The Gul was already invading every aspect of his life he didn’t need to give him cause to find more ways to violate his privacy. Eating was still difficult. Ever since Dukat strangled him, it was frustrating.

A hand grabbed his shaking wrist, fork in hand, “Weyoun,” By the Founders keep yourself together Weyoun, “I’ve got you. You have nothing to be so worried about.” Except you, “If this is about this morning I suppose I teased you a little too much.” Teased him is that what he thinks of that as? “I’ll try not to work you up so much in the mornings okay?” His patronizing tone was infuriating.

As if Weyoun’s fearful trembling was a nuisance for Dukat. Like his response was melodramatic instead of hardly noticeable. Teasing? The man strangled him barely two days ago and abandoned him after turning him into an emotional wreck less than a few hours ago. Of course he’s not okay.

Weyoun had to take a deep breath to keep calm, “I’d appreciate that.” He couldn’t entirely keep the anger out of his voice.

Dukat gave him a look for it, “Weyoun I do not appreciate that tone.” Of course it was his tone that was the problem not Dukat’s actions, “Weyoun look at me.” 

Looking him in the eye it was clear Dukat’s patience was low today. They had a dangerous gleam to them. One that was looking for any reason to lash out. The black oozing rage inside of him stired. It was very tempting to give him one. Anything to get him to acknowledge how he was hurting him. Even if it was only by hurting him more.

“I’m sorry do my eyes also have a tone you don’t appreciate?” The spite was heavy in his voice.

It took a moment for the strike to register. The first thing he noticed was that he was on the floor, eyes focused on the bottom of the couch. Next came the pain. Fire spread from the central point on his cheek. Crackling up where each finger hit from his ear to his nose. A whine left him and he could feel something wet slide over his upper lip.

“Get up Weyoun.” Dukat called impatiently from the table above him.

His face was hit but standing took more effort than it should have. A Vorta’s ears were sensitive, full of nerve endings for detecting the subtleties around them. And the slap hadn’t been the love taps he’d gotten in the past, it had force behind it. Reaching up to protect his ear his other hand whipped his nose to come away with a bloody streak.

“Sit down.” The sound of the chair scrapping on the floor as Dukat kicked it out for him seemed loud.

Sitting back down Dukat huffed as Weyoun just stared at his food. They ate in silence, Weyoun managing to keep his hands steady this time. When Dukat was done he stood to leave.

“I’ll be back late tonight.” He could feel him standing directly behind him, “If I come back tonight at all. There are other places I can spend my time Weyoun.” A hand squeezed his shoulder, “You aren’t my only priority, remember that.” He tapped the other side of Weyoun’s face then left.

Alone again Weyoun could finally breath. Lucky for him Dukat was such a shitbag or else he’d not have something to cover for his nerves. That thought had him chuckle at first before it turned into a full on laugh and then morphed into heaving painful laughter. Tears streaking down his face till he caught is breath and held it in. He really needed to get this communications working.

With Dukat gone he’d have about 5 more hours till his shift was done and even longer assuming Dukat hadn’t been lying to him just now. The thing about communicating by padd is that each one is encrypted. Meaning the only way to talk to someone else was if you knew their padd codes already. So he needed Keevan’s padd codes. Weyoun had searched Dukat’s quarters out of boredom many times now and it was clear he kept his work stuff in his office. How else could he find out?

The Dominion had just given Keevan his old quarters does that mean they gave him his old padd too? It would make sense. All of his notes and contacts were on that padd it would have made it easier to just give him his old padd than to transfer all that data to a new one. It was worth a shot at least.

‘Keevan?’ -W

‘Yes who is this and how did you get my padd codes?’ -K

‘This is Weyoun I think we should talk.’ -W

‘I disagree. There is nothing WE have to talk about. You are a traitor remember and I won’t jeopardize my position once again for your false promises.’ -K

‘I don’t know what the Federation promised you but this isn’t about them. It concerns Dukat and your continued safety on this station.’ -W

‘Do you think just because you cannot handle your weaknesses that the rest of us can’t either? I do not need YOUR help in handling Dukat. The man is a fool and the fact you could not see it shows how blinded you were by your sinful ways.’ -K

‘Keevan please. It’s not like you think.’ -W

‘I will not tell Dukat about you contacting me or that you have access to padd communications. Take that as payment for letting me know about his….history. I can manage this myself, as a Vorta should. I will not speak to you again. Do not try to contact me, for both our sakes.’ -K

‘Keevan?’ -W (YOUR PADD CODE HAS BEEN BLOCKED)

What was he supposed to do now?

End of Chapter 10


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: non-consensual drug use

When Keevan blocked him Weyoun felt rejected all over again. It’s not that he expected Keevan to be happy to hear from him. Though he’s not sure what he expected. To be listened to at least. To be given a chance to warn him. To ask for help maybe? What’s he kidding himself for. Keevan wouldn’t help him, he’s not even a Vorta anymore. He’s of no value with no leverage. There was no real comradery among the Vorta. They were always competing with one another as they were designed to do. All they did was for the Founders, not for each other or even for themselves. But still knowing this, it hurt.

He considered contacting Khet since the Glinn had covered for him. However since he didn’t know the full story around what brought that on he decided to hold out on that. If he was just repaying Weyoun a favor than the Glinn would happily rat him out to have an in with Dukat. There was also the problem that he didn’t remember his codes. Due to the security measures around padds it’s not like he can just spamm numbers blindly that would be more likely to get him caught than help. So he couldn’t just send a message to the Federation. He would need the right codes.

So once again he was trapped, alone and hurt. Going into the bathroom the hand print on his face was beginning to fade. Staring at it he traced it, memorizing it while it was still there. Shifting his gaze to look into his eyes he did look tired. He hadn’t slept last night and he’d spent this morning going through some bad memories. Now it felt pointless, or at least not worth it. Being able to use a communicator function on a padd without anyone to communicate with seemed not worth the exhaustion he was feeling right now.

Not wanting to think more about how he had just wasted his time and effort he took a nap. If Dukat wasn’t going to come home tonight he might as well get as much sleep as he can. He had a dream where he was running, or was it more of a memory? He was on the outpost, the Jem’Hadar dead all around him. And he was running because he could hear them behind him. They were going to catch him, eventually, like they had before, like they always will. But this, the running, the chase. That was something Weyoun could change, had some control over. Whether he hid in a closet or tried to avoid them as they moved about the station he got to choose how he played but it always ended the same way.

He woke up suddenly, tensely. Breathing heavily as the panic waned he realized what woke him. There were voices from the main room. One of them was Dukat’s. Getting up and cautiously leaving his room Dukat and Damar were playing at the Korta board. That’s where the loudest voices were but a soft murmuring had him turning his head in the direction of the door. Keevan was on the couch, he looked very drunk. Since when did Keevan drink? And Weyoun despite having had alcohol on several occasions had never felt much of the inebriating effects Damar was so enamored with.

Damar who was facing him at the board noticed him first, “Wondered where you had slunk off to.”

As if he had anywhere to go, “Good to see your strategy hasn’t improved.” He remarked seeing that Damar was using his usual tactic.

For some reason Damar went about Korta with the same strategy every time. Yet despite it always being his first instinct that both he and Dukat were used to he didn’t lose with it that often. It was a very bullheaded sort of strategy. One that was hard to break Damar from which was why it was hard to counter him. Dukat was easy to bait into chasing after false targets, Damar was much too focused for that.

“I’ll change it when it stops working.” He responded moving his next piece.

Dukat had turned to look at him. His eyes sharp while his face was relaxed.

“Weyoun you’ve been asleep for a while. I was beginning to worry I’d worn you out.” That got a single laugh out of Damar.

“Yes, well I was tired.” He felt strange.

As though he’d walked into the past. But it wasn’t several months ago and Keevan’s mumbling reply reminded him of that.

“What’s with him?” Weyoun asked.

Dukat grinned knowingly, “Turns out Keevan doesn’t have the stomach for Romulan ale. I suppose he underestimated how intoxicating it is.” 

Weyoun highly doubted that. Keevan was thirteen generations old. It was highly unlikely that he’d drink a lot of an alcohol he was unfamiliar with. Especially with his high amount of bitterness and paranoia. 

“I see.” He went to the replicator which was on the other side of the room. 

Away from Dukat and Damar and closer to Keevan. He asked for something small, not that he was hungry. But he needed something to do that would give him reason to be farther away from Dukat. Sitting down he tried to think about what to do. Keevan was mumbling schematics for an attack cruiser. It was clear he was out of it and Weyoun suspected he knew why. Dukat had told him he was going to spend the night somewhere else. However that somewhere else had just seen his collection of photos of the people he’s used in the past with him in it. And Dukat never took being ignored very well. It’s not that he cared about Keevan only that he cared that Dukat didn’t get what he wanted. So Weyoun was going to help him. 

Right now he was very thankful for Cardassians terrible hearing, “Keevan? Keevan?” He whispered there was no way Damar or Dukat could hear him but Keevan definitely could from where he was at.

Keevan murmured, “What?” He sounded like he was going to fall asleep.

It was clear he was too out of it to help himself. What he needed was a distraction and he knew the perfect one. Leaving his food on the table he went and stood next to Damar. Dukat’s eyes watching him. Damar was trying to ignore him.

Weyoun had a casual tone, “Damar when did you last hear from Ziyal?” That had the two men freezing in place.

Damar slowly turned towards him, “That’s none of your concern Vorta.” Standing up to loom over him it was clear there was something sore about Ziyal between them.

“I’m not a Vorta anymore remember? And since I live here where she lives, where her things are, it does in fact concern me. So why won’t you answer the question?” He stared right back up at him unbothered.

“You are the LAST person I owe any explanations too.” Damar stepped closer, trying to intimidate him.

Good old reliable Damar, “Really? Because I would like an explanation about Weyoun 5’s death. I recall you being there and NOT being on the transporter with me like you were SUPPOSED to.” He could see the anger in Damar’s face, he was getting close, “I wonder about Ziyal because I remember you not caring for her either. Did she also have a transporter accident?” That’s what got him.

Damar shoved him onto the floor. Good old reliable Damar, never deviating from the same tactics that have always worked for him. Damar was on top of him lifting him by the shoulders to smack him back into the floor. 

“HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING SHE LEFT..” That’s when Dukat pulled Damar off of him.

Damar turned to shove Dukat away, “I told you to not bring her onto the station.” Dukat tackled him.

“She’s my daughter you have no right to tell me how to be a father.” They were fighting now.

“Like you’ve ever been a real father to anyone.” Damar said pushing him off causing him to collide with one of the arm chairs.

“At least I have children to be proud of. Where’s your son right now?” Dukat stood up to push Damar towards the door.

“On Cardassia Prime where he’s supposed to be. Unlike YOUR traitor of a daughter.” That seemed to be what snapped him.

Dukat punched Damar in the face. Damar stepped back and lifted his arms to block. Dukat followed him into the hallway. This went much better than Weyoun had expected. Now was his chance. Going to Keevan he activated his comm.

“Nearest Jem’Hadar to Dukat’s quarters. A fight has broken out and Keevan needs an escort to safety.” Weyoun ordered.

“On route.” was the response. Keevan seemed to have noticed him kneeling over him.

His eyes rolling over to look at him, “Why are you here?”

“Your in Dukat’s quarters.” He could hear Dukat and Damar fighting and yelling at each other outside.

It was clear this had been festering between them for a while. 

“That’s not where I should be.” Keevan said drowsily, “Why am I here? I’ll get blamed like you did if something happens.” His eyes were glazed over.

The scuffle outside grew worse as it seemed the Jem’Hadar had arrived. A brief bought of silence signaling they managed to break the two Cardassians up. Two Jem’Hadar walked into Dukat’s quarters. Both of them saw Weyoun first. Eyeing him and his collar curiously before spotting Keevan sprawled on the couch. The walked over and pulled him up to his feet.

“Took you long enough. Unhand me.” He brushed off the Jem’Hadar’s hand to only then lean on him for support, “Take me to my quarters make sure they lock behind me.” With that they left.

When the doors opened for them Weyoun could see that Damar was gone. Dukat watched Keevan get escorted out of his rooms, out of his reach. The anger was clear on his face. He was also bleeding from his lip. A bruise starting to form where Damar had apparently punched him in the face. Stepping back into his apartments the door slid shut behind him.

Weyoun was alone with Dukat.

Dukat’s face had a dangerous look. He whipped the blood from his mouth. The air between them felt heavy with potential energy. Potential for violence, potential for something else.

Weyoun moved first, “Sit down I’ll get the regenerator.” He went into the washroom to grab it not looking to see if Dukat listened to him.

Returning Dukat was on the couch head between his hands. He didn’t look up when he approached. Weyoun grabbed his chin to lift his head up to him. Dukat let him. Looking down at him he watched as Dukat nuzzled into his hand, eyes closed. Is this what Weyoun looked like when he was vulnerable under him? No wonder Dukat liked it so much. Dukat cracked open his eyes to look up at him. They were softer, hard to imagine such danger in them now. Weyoun traced his thumb over the scales on Dukat’s chin, where he’d bit him. Dukat’s eyes followed him as Weyoun manipulated his face where he wanted. He began repairing the damage.

“I’m sorry.” Weyoun started, anything to break this odd vulnerable silence, “I didn’t know about Ziyal. I hadn’t thought Damar would react that way.” Not entirely a lie.

He had wanted to cause an altercation that’d get Damar and Dukat out of the room he had expected it to just be between him and Damar and Dukat would have to escort him out. Not for it to escalate to a fist fight between the Cardassians.

“Of course you didn’t I hadn’t told you.” Dukat said, his tone odd.

Weyoun hadn’t heard him speak that way before, “That is true.” Finished with his lip Weyoun moved to the bruise expanding on his cheek.

“It was bound to happen eventually. Damar doesn’t trust my judgment for people.” He was staring at Weyoun’s face so intently. 

“Really I would never have guessed. He follows your orders without question.” It was strange to see such a soft expression on a conscious Dukat.

“Trusting my orders and trusting who I trust are not the same thing.” Finished healing him Weyoun sat the regenerator down.

“I guess I wouldn’t know the difference.” His other hand came up to join it’s counterpart in cupping Dukat’s face.

He pressed his now healed cheek into Weyoun’s hand, “He still doesn’t trust you being here you know.” He looked up at him through hooded eyes.

“Do you trust me here?” Weyoun asked, honestly curious about the answer.

Dukat kissed his palm, “Your my Weyoun. I trust you to be that.”

End of Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just about finished with writing the last few chapters. Then it's just the editing to do.


	12. Chapter 12

He was in Dukat’s lap, being kissed. Dermal regenerator on the coffee table, forgotten. This wasn’t real, this tenderness. Soft gentle kisses between apologies for letting Damar hurt him. Damar wasn’t the one hurting him, Dukat was. Was he really so blind to this? Weyoun knows that he isn’t. How could he be? Not with all those photos. Not with all those women. That question, of whether or not Dukat knows is a trap. A trap that feels easy to fall into because hoping that he doesn’t mean there’s a chance he will stop. But he won’t stop. He won’t change. Why would he? He’s head of the Cardassian government there’s no reason for him to stop, change or grow.

These kisses were making Weyoun feel worse. Dukat was talking, asking for forgiveness for being a bad father and just in general. Weyoun told him he did forgive him, but he doesn’t. How could he forgive him? It’s not like Weyoun has been off living his own life free from him. He’s trapped here, under Dukat, for what’s looking like the rest of his life. However long that’s gonna be. But right now, being honest is dangerous. Telling Dukat the truth. That he was a terrible father and that Weyoun did not forgive him or even want his apology would end badly for him. 

This was getting easier. Playing Dukat’s game. Learning the rules as he goes has made it difficult. But Weyoun’s adaptable. And this, this seemingly vulnerable, apologetic Dukat is just another piece on the board. He could see so clearly how this piece is used. Reversing the dynamic with whoever he’s with. Making them take the high road and comfort him. Hoping to lead Dukat to do the same by example. Whether Dukat’s feelings are real doesn’t matter. Weyoun doesn’t care if Dukat does feel terrible, whether he does feel sorry for what he’s done. Because being sorry is meaningless if you keep doing the same thing. And it’s clear from where he’s sitting that Dukat doesn’t plan to stop anytime soon. Drugging Keevan is proof of that.

So Weyoun lies to him with his words. With his lips and his body. Lying is easy for Weyoun when he has a goal in mind. And his goal is something small, something that even if he dies under Dukat he can still achieve. A new game he can play, one where the chance to win can keep him going for a long time. The game of ensuring Dukat doesn’t get what he wants. And right now he wants to break Keevan down. Like he did with him. That’s a game Weyoun has already won. Which makes lying to him feel so much sweeter. Because he’s won this round and Dukat hasn’t even realized it yet. Now Dukat is the one in the dark. He’s the one being played, even if it’s for little things. So Weyoun lets him believe that he believes him when he says he’s sorry. Lets him fuck him gently. Lets him believe he’s winning because he’s already lost. 

Sleeping next to him is a little easier that night. He smiles at Dukat tenderly before he leaves for work. Dukat believes him without question. Why wouldn’t he? He’s done this over a dozen times before. The kiss between them is soft, sweet, a false promise.

Once again alone Weyoun had a surprise waiting for him. 

‘I apologize about before.’ -K

Weyoun hadn’t expected this.

‘I did try to warn you.’ -W

‘You did and when I didn’t listen you still helped me.’ -K

‘Thank you for that.’ -K

‘Maybe you had been right to leave?’-K

‘I understand why you did now at least.’ -K

‘Without the Founders protection what are we Vorta?’ -K

‘So I’m Vorta again?’ -W

‘You are to me at least.’ -K

‘This doesn’t leave this channel by the way. If you speak of this I’ll deny it.’ -K

‘I know. It’s what I would do.’ -W

‘Will you tell me what Weyoun 6 did?’ -W

‘I suppose I owe you that.’ -K

‘Your sixth iteration had begun trying to rally Vorta and Jem’Hadar alike against the Founders. You were doing it covertly enough through anonymity. Weyoun 6 is why I’m here. He managed to use the leverage he’d built up to get me back into the Founders good graces after I was traded back to the Dominion. He’d said he done it because ‘we Vorta should stand together’. ‘That our Founders don’t define us or our worth.’ It seemed really naive to me at the time. But now..’ -K

‘I suspect Odo was involved but some of the details of your betrayal is classified to any non-Founder. When Weyoun 6 tried to push the Vorta further, to actually leave and join the Federation that’s when you were outed. I don’t know who did it only that us Vorta denied any connection to you when those anonymous messages were revealed. There was a revolt by the Jem’Hadar that was squashed.’ -K

‘You know they’re revamping the entire cloning process for future Vorta and Jem’Hadar because of this? Even with the war draining our resources they’re channeling some into it. Whatever you started shook them. I’m starting to think you might have had a point.’ -K

‘I have to go. Don’t message me till I contact you first.’ -K

That left Weyoun with a lot to think about. The rest of his day was spent trying to not check his messages every few minutes. Dukat came for lunch. It seems he was planning to keep up this sensitive act for a bit longer. He’d brought him a riding hound wooden figurine. With a story about how the wood it was carved from is from a tree native to his home on Cardassia Prime and his childhood riding hound. It would have been a thoughtful gesture if Dukat meant it. But Dukat didn’t mean it why else would he have not told him anything yet? Not even a word more about Ziyal despite the fight about her last night and him pleading with Weyoun to understand he was a good father. The man hasn’t even bragged to him about how they managed to keep the station. And Dukat outright avoiding a chance to show off means he’s purposefully avoiding it. That there’s something about it he wants to keep Weyoun in the dark about.

Of course the figurine wasn’t free. Dukat had him on his back on the couch. Working him up with his hands while he kissed along his ears. Sensitive ears that flushed darker with a blush at the pleasant waves of heat being stroked into his body. Playing his usual lunch game wouldn’t hurt. He got eight minutes after his shift started today. The rumbling growls in his chest deep as he kissed him goodbye. It helped that Dukat had been determined to make him come before he left. Leaving him again right after making him feel so open and vulnerable. After over a month of this Dukat’s patterns were becoming obvious. It was looking like he was more stuck in his ways than Damar.

It was hours before Keevan messaged him again.

‘Dukat’s been very insistent today.’ -K

‘He usually is, just don’t let him wear you down.’ -W

‘So what are your plans?’ -K

‘Plans?’ -W

‘For how to get out of this? For the future?’ -K

‘I’ve been more focused on surviving the now rather than working for a future.’ -W

That had Keevan pause.

‘I understand, I’ve been in a similar state a few times.’ -K

‘Odo, Kira and Ziyal are still in hiding on Bajor. The Bajoran’s say their being cooperative but everyone knows they’re hiding them somewhere. I could work on getting a message to them if you like?’ -K

‘Why do you want to help me?’ -W

It was very unusual for the normally bitter Keevan to want to do something.

‘I’m on my fourteenth generation Weyoun. I had resigned myself to living my last life in a Federation prison because that felt less painful than continuing to be under Dominion control. I’m helping you because if you are willing to help me after what I have done to you what excuse do I have to not try?’ -K

‘I’ve always wanted to ask an older Vorta like yourself about if it gets any easier.’ -W

‘The answer is it doesn’t, it only gets worse. There’s a reason most Vorta are decommissioned after 20 generations. After 20 lives where none of them are your own, where most of your deaths are painful and scaring. A new brain can only handle so much trauma. After the second brain dead new clone a line is decommissioned. I don’t think I’ll make it to my 20th Weyoun.’ -K

‘I wasn’t aware of this.’ -W

‘Of course you weren’t. The deterioration of a clone line is kept locked down and you’re too young to have seen much of it in person.’ -K

‘I’m on my 7th and I already have heavy memory corruption.’ -W

‘I suspect we all do. Keeping us apart seems more intentional now.’ -K

‘Yes. I’ve always envied the Jem’Hadar’s unity.’ -W

‘It makes the necessity of the white make more sense.’ -K

‘And why they keep revolting.’ -W

‘I have another meeting. I’ll see what I can do but I won’t promise anything.’ -K

Weyoun had never thought of Keevan as a man who’d do anything for anyone else. Yet what does Weyoun really know about his fellow Vorta? It’s not like they’re encouraged to spend time together. But if Keevan was telling the truth that his 6th iteration had helped him than it would make sense that he’d want to repay the favor. But what if he was lying? Or trying to bait Weyoun into revealing something? 

Keevan is leaving a trail of messages. So if he was setting a trap for Weyoun than he’d be caught under it too. There’s not really a way you can read these messages and not see Keevan as sympathetic and driving to change the system of the Dominion. If Weyoun 6 was rejected as Vorta for saying similar things than it makes sense that Keevan would be as well. The likelihood Keevan cares more about the Dominion than his lineage seemed unlikely with how he left to be under Federation protection.

His thoughts were heavy on Keevan and the state of Vorta under the Dominion till Dukat came home. Striding in with a self-congratulatory smile on his face he beckoned Weyoun to come to him.

“We’re going to Quarks tonight.” He stated putting his hands on Weyoun’s waist.

The confusion was obvious on his face, “I thought the Dominion ambassador didn’t want me seen on the station? That I’d be ‘a liability’ for the Dominion.” Weyoun felt pride in himself for being able to keep his comment about Keevan spiteful. It was good that he was still able to find use for his skills.

Somehow that smile spread even further on Dukat’s face, “Turns out due to Keevan’s inebriated state he believes I had come to his defense last night. So he felt obligated to repay my defending him from Damar by allowing your presence on the station.” Weyoun hadn’t expected Keevan to lie to give him something to make things a little more tolerable, “However you aren’t allowed on shift or in sensitive areas.” He raised a finger to wag at him, teasing him as if his isolation for over a month had been a small matter and not deeply damaging to Weyoun.

He held in his irritation, “That is good news.” Stepping a little closer he leaned up to give him a kiss, “I’m guessing you’ve told Damar to keep hush about last night then?” The last thing he wanted to worry about was loose ends.

“He’s very apologetic about last night so he didn’t argue with me agreeing with Keevan’s assessment of the situation.” He took Weyoun’s face in his hand to give him another kiss.

There was true excitement building in Weyoun’s chest. After five weeks being trapped in about five rooms even the familiar halls of the station would be a welcomed change. Despite the Vorta’s disconnect with others of their species they were still very social. Being alone is something they aren’t taught how to handle. It’s why even simple missions that’d only take a single Vorta they would have a few Jem’Hadar on board. 

The walk to Quarks was entirely uneventful besides the looks Weyoun was getting. But it was easy to ignore in his excitement to just be somewhere else for a few hours. Quarks was about the same since the last time he was here. Maybe fewer Bajorans but overall it seemed the same. Damar glared at him when they joined him at a table. Dukat got himself a Kanar and ordered something for Weyoun that he wasn’t too keen on drinking. Especially after last night. 

Dukat and Damar mostly just chatted while Weyoun was people watching. Despite the harsher, more upsetting kind of looks he was getting from the Cardassians they were quicker to get bored of him. It was the Jem’Hadar that seemed to outright stare. They didn’t need to nor wanted to drink yet went to Quarks to seemingly confuse everyone out of spite alone. Weyoun tried to avoid their gazes as he looked about the room. His ears soaking up the jumbled noise of several conversations at once like a sponge. He used to hate how loud it was in here. Weyoun tried to not react when he saw Keevan come in. Dukat noticed him and called him over.

“Keevan won’t you join us?” Dukat asked in that a bit to loud jovial tone he often used when he wanted someone to like him.

Keevan had an expression like he smelled something bad, “Not tonight. I was just planning to play a bit of Dabo before retiring.” He gave a scornful glance at Damar, “After last night I don’t feel up to drinking here.”

To Weyoun it was clear Dukat was trying to keep his expression neutral. But he noticed the muscles tensing in his neck.

“I see. You can always come over for a drink when you need one. Weyoun and I wouldn’t mind the company.” Dukat said casually.

The sound Keevan made was a quiet one that if he hadn’t been standing right next to him Weyoun would have missed. Of course it was too low for Cardassian hearing but Weyoun knew it’s meaning. The thought disgusted him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave a polite nod, “Good evening.” Before leaving for a Dabo table.

Dukat’s eyes followed him. They narrowed a bit and looked a little darker. Weyoun felt very pleased with it. Clearly Keevan’s rejection had bothered Dukat because the jovial mood he had been projecting all night turned sour. Damar seemed to have noticed and smartly didn’t push him. They mainly drank in silence. 

“Do you not like your drink Weyoun? It’s what you usually get.” Dukat’s voice had deepened making his displeasure obvious.

Despite Weyoun’s misgivings he took a drink, “It’s fine I just wasn’t really wanting one.” Dukat huffed out of his nose.

The liquid felt heavy down his throat. While unlikely that Dukat had drugged him because he had no need to, the fear of it was there. He’d done it to Keevan who knows who else he’s done it to. He could feel the alcohol sitting in his stomach. It was hard to ignore and even harder to not hyper focus on his reactions. Wanting to know the instant he felt something to know if Dukat fucked with his drink. With Dukat’s mood soured Damar took the chance to excuse himself bottle of Kanar in hand. But it seemed Dukat had other plans.

“Damar would you escort Weyoun back to my quarters?” Dukat asked his eyes lingering in the direction of the Dabo tables.

Weyoun felt dread in him at that. Damar looked between Dukat, where Dukat was looking, to Weyoun.

“I guess, it is on my way.” Damar puffed out. The annoyance clear in his voice.

Damar grabbed Weyoun by the arm and tugged him out of the bar. Weyoun’s head turned back to watch as Dukat approached Keevan at the Dabo table. Once on the promenade Weyoun shook his arm out of Damar’s hold.

“You do not need to drag me around. I’m not luggage.” He said.

Damar huffed, “You are for me tonight.” Before turning to walk towards the habitat ring.

Taking quicker steps Weyoun didn’t want to fall behind. Not that he didn’t know the way but that he didn’t like going without protection with the looks the Cardassian soldiers were sending his way. Damar didn’t wait for him so it took several seconds for him to catch up. The walk was thankfully not long and without comment. Damar stood for a moment in front of Dukat’s quarters waiting for Weyoun to catch up. Before Weyoun could enter Damar grabbed his arm.

“Whatever you’re planning it’s not going to work.” Damar said stepping closer to him.

“I’m not planning anything. There’s nothing me to ‘plan’ for. besides I thought Dukat was the paranoid one between the two of you?” Weyoun answered looking up at him.

“Please you expect me to believe that someone like you managed to grow a spine and rebel? Whatever the Dominion is using you for be prepared to face me as your consequence.” His grip tightened to emphasis his threat.

“You think I’m still working for The Dominion? As what Dukat’s....bed warmer well I’m not. I’ve been tossed out. The Founders have rejected me so I’m not even a Vorta anymore.” Weyoun took a shakey breath, “I’d be flattered at your assertion that I’m still a threat if I were in any other position. But I’m not even a threat to myself anymore.” For some reason Weyoun couldn’t stop himself letting it out, “They took out my implant so the only decision I ever had, to die on my own terms, was taken from me as well.” Damar let go of his arm. Weyoun’s eyes had drifted to the floor as he spoke.

He noticed the awkward shuffle of Damar’s feet, “I….” Damar started but paused. Clearly uncomfortable, “I wasn’t aware it was to that extent.” Looking up Damar seemed to have found the wall very interesting.

“Can I go now?” Weyoun asked.

“Yes.” Damar gestured to the door. 

Happy to have this conversation over they parted ways. Once again Weyoun was alone. And despite being in a full bar Keevan was really alone with Dukat.

End of Chapter 12


	13. Chapter 13

Weyoun woke up on his bed suddenly very alert. After a few panicked breaths he realized what woke him. There were voices in the other room. Getting up he considered just staying in his room. But not knowing, not confirming what he was hearing felt worse than just going out there. Taking a step out of his room the main room was dark. Movement attracted his eye. His poor vision could just make out a shape on the couch. Hushed voices coming from the mass. Wet sounds carried loudly across the darkened room. The smell of sex drifting to him.

Realizing what was happening he took a step back. His ankle hit the door frame attracting attention to him. A chunk of the mass separated to hurriedly head towards the door. Light spilling in from the hall made the humiliation on Keevan’s face clear. Dukat’s briefly illuminated back sent stark highlights giving his satisfied expression a ghoulish exaggerated quality. The doors shut behind Keevan’s stumbling form leaving Weyoun alone, in the dark, with Dukat. 

The silence that followed felt tense. Dukat’s body now a dark shape menacing him from the couch. Weyoun tried to retreat back into his room. The sound of the door opening behind him felt loud.

“Come here Weyoun.” Dukat called, his voice rolling across the space between them like light on the ocean for passing ships.

The desire to flee and hide was strong. Except Weyoun had no where to flee to, nowhere to hide. Dukat called him again. The sound returning like the rotating light of a lighthouse. But this lights purpose wasn’t to warn of danger. But to draw you into the sharp rocks, so it could watch you collide and struggle to escape before you inevitably sink beneath the waves. Forcing his feet forward he stepped up to him. Weyoun really hated having such poor vision at times like this. Hands came out of no where to pull him into the dark mass of Dukat. Dragged onto his lap he could finally see his face now that they were so close. But it was cast in heavy darkness. His eyes shined, his vision more suited to low light. Like a creature who hunts at night. Like the ones who used to hunt Weyoun’s ancestors. A dampness invaded the seat of Weyoun’s pants making it obvious what he had been doing with Keevan.

He must not have been able to hide the disgust on his face, “I may dabble with others but you’ll always be my Weyoun.” A hand gripped the side of his face.

As if the problem here was that Weyoun was jealous and not how Dukat was treating him, “I’m aware.”

Armor off and prUt out Dukat put a hand on Weyoun’s ass and made him roll his hips over him. Weyoun wasn’t able to keep the tension out of his body as he gasped.

“Is there something you want to say Weyoun?” Dukat asked tone steady.

“No.” Weyoun answered.

“You sure?” He really wished he could see in the dark to know what kind of expression he had.

“I just..” It’s not like he could tell him he didn’t want to be there, “I just wish you’d tell me ahead of time if we’re going to have guests.” He knew he couldn’t tell Dukat what to do about Keevan.

The dark shielded Dukat’s expression as it took several agonizing seconds for him to respond.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dukat finally responded.

Weyoun decided to take the initiative. He slid out of his lap and onto the floor. Hand in his hair Dukat directed him. This was manageable, he can do this. It didn’t take Dukat long, it seemed he had been farther along before Weyoun had interrupted him than he realized. 

“Don’t swallow.” Dukat ordered as he pulled him up by his hair to kiss him.

His tongue entering his mouth to taste himself there. Weyoun kissed back hands gripping his pants in his kneeled position tightly.

Dukat pulled him away, “Go get naked and wait on the bed. Keep the lights off.” He ordered.

Did his even tone have a menace to it or was Weyoun reading more into it? He quickly did as he was told. There was no windows in the bedroom. Leaving him in complete darkness with no stars to give off even the faint light the main room had. Sitting on the end of the bed hands in his lap he heard the door open. The sound of something soft colliding with the floor let him know Dukat was also naked now. But he couldn’t see him, Weyoun was almost completely blind in the dark. While Dukat could see quite clearly. He cried out and flinched away at the slight touch to his left ear. He could hear a slight chuckle out of Dukat. That touch gone as soon as it came.

Another touch, fingers running up his thighs. Weyoun’s eyes wide open but there was only darkness there. A gasp left him as it reached his pelvis. The touch leaving with it. Weyoun reached out to find Dukat with his hands.

“Put those down Weyoun.” He heard him order, voice coming from behind him.

Doing as he was told Dukat went back to playing with him. Hunting him in the dark. At least that’s what it felt like to Weyoun. Hands running up his arms, palms cool but the contact felt like fire crackling on his skin. Weyoun was panting, it sounded so loud. When they made contact with the collar he whined. They left him, the smallest of heat seemed to linger on his throat before fading. The pauses in between was torment. 

He felt the slightest shift in the bed. Dukat’s presence felt large behind him. The urge to turn around hard to resist. Without sight it was like Dukat was darkness taking form. Warm breath hit his neck. A shiver ran through him right before he felt lips make contact. Teeth skimming over his skin as he felt like Dukat was gonna swallow him. A tongue followed before suction. Moaning had him back in darkness, alone, wetness cooling on his throat. His panting felt more urgent because he couldn’t touch either Dukat or himself.

After a seeming eternity fingers gripped his chin, turning his head to the side. Holding him there for a brief moment. Lips connecting, taking the sound that tried to escape into him. Dukat pressed into his back. Weyoun’s mind mapping Dukat’s body through touch alone. It felt so different without his eyes to guide him. Textured, cool scales pressed into his soft skin. Hard, muscular thighs trapping his hips between them. It seemed the hunt was over. He was caught and now to be consumed by that darkness. Folding around his smaller, softer body with his hard, textured one. He could feel each scale slide against him as Dukat leaned further into him. Wet ajan rubbing against his lower back.

His left hand suddenly appearing on his abdomen. Dukat’s kiss swallowing the moan as he spread his legs for him. Deepening the kiss it felt like Dukat’s darkness followed his tongue into him. Seeping deep into the very core of his being. Curling around that ball of heat inside him, becoming apart of his desire, his lust. Fingers spread his wet slit with light touches. The contrast of it all was making him desperate. Rolling his hips back Dukat groaned. Breaking the kiss Dukat’s prUt was everting. He could feel it sliding wetly against his skin. Weyoun wanted it somewhere else right now.

“Dukat please.” Weyoun whined out.

“Please what?” He questioned him, his voice not sounding anywhere near as desperate as Weyoun’s.

“Please fuck me sir.” Weyoun begged, “I need you to fuck me.” Leaning up he kissed Dukat’s chin.

The hand on him reached farther down between his legs to grip him. That grip tightened as he was pulled up and back. So he was hovering over Dukat’s thighs by the strength of his hand alone. That grip still tight as those fingers slid up to open him up. Right hand grabbing his throat. A spike in his fear had him cry out. Dukat heard him and didn’t hesitate to lower him onto his prUt. Moving at his speed not Weyoun’s. Weyoun was unable to move with his torso so fully under Dukat’s control. His soft back sliding against Dukat’s scaled chest and belly. Still in complete darkness it felt like darkness was entering him. Stroking him from the inside, hitting those sensitive nerves, gripping his soaked sex as it entered him with such bruising strength. Darkness was fucking him, slowly, harshly, without pause. Bending him over, face pressed into the bed crushing him under it’s unbearable weight.

Angle changing making the slide have more friction behind it. The pace still slow, hard, constant. Sounds of their bodies connecting was loud but not as loud as Weyoun’s muffled moans. Hands gripping the blanket under him as he had no way to control the rhythm of Dukat rocking into him. The build of that darkness encased heat was steady, out of his control. No pause to come down or catch his breath. Just that harsh steady motion over and into him. The hand on his neck tightened just a bit, cutting off just a bit more air. Lack of air combined with that dark heat inside of him to make him come under Dukat’s control. He didn’t stop as Weyoun’s orgasm and cry was ripped out of him. Slow, hard pace kept going. Oversensitive to the point he was crying Weyoun was made to ride it. That steady, slow pace till Dukat was done. Till darkness came into him, filling him. Hands left him, he could feel the dip of them at either side of his head. Dukat was panting over him, still inside him. Weyoun just laid there, feeling bone deep physical exhaustion but mentally he was wide awake.

“You look so wonderful like this.” Dukat said to him as he pulled out.

Weyoun wasn’t sure if Dukat was acting different or that he was seeing him differently. Because Weyoun had felt a tension between them that didn’t seem to go away. Even after they went to bed. It kept Weyoun on high alert. He didn’t sleep much that night. Dukat left at his usual time acting like his usual self. But still that tension was there and didn’t follow Dukat out the door. It stuck with him for the rest of the day. 

He couldn’t escape it even in his dreams, or rather nightmares. Weyoun was sinking into a cold, black sludge, drowning in it. Feeling it slide down his throat, becoming apart of him. His nap wasn’t successful at making him feel better today. Dukat didn’t return for lunch which was fine by Weyoun. He was afraid of that tension, of how it would be resolved. The day felt longer because of it. He should have messaged Keevan, asked him what happened, talked to him about something. But he couldn’t, Weyoun felt too trapped in his head to think that clearly. To be able to see the thing that would help him. So he spent the day just sitting in that tension till Dukat came home. It bothered him how Dukat just walked in like everything was normal, like this was fine. Because Weyoun was not fine.

“We’re going to Quarks. Go change into something nice, those clothes seem a little bland for my Weyoun.” He pet Weyoun’s face.

When did he get in front of him? How long had he just sat here on the couch? Blinking he stood to do as he was told without comment. Coming back out into the main room Dukat pulled him in for a tender kiss.

“Much better.” Hands encircling his waist, “It brings out your eyes.” Another kiss.

Maybe Weyoun was fine. Dukat didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with him. Sure he must be fine, he can handle this. They went to Quarks going to their usual table with Damar. But it wasn’t usual because Weyoun wasn’t the ambassador anymore he was property. The evidence of that around his neck. Tonight he was thankful for the drink. It was something to distract him. He wished he could get drunk, or at least get drunk as easily as others. Being free from his thoughts would be a welcomed change right now. 

The tension did eventually break. Damar was telling Dukat about updates from Cardassia Prime when Keevan walked in. Dukat’s eyes locked on him, following him as he walked through the bar. Currently the only place open this late. Keevan didn’t look over he just took a straight shot to the bar, sitting himself between two Jem’Hadar who were of course not drinking anything. That tension inside Weyoun broke into a deep seething anger. That ball of rage writhing inside of him. How can Dukat treat him so and then go after Keevan like what he was doing to Weyoun didn’t matter? Like Weyoun was nothing but a toy to be played with and dropped as he pleased.

Not that he wanted his attention, just acknowledgment. He’d done this too him and seemed to not even care about it. Weyoun was so angry he wanted to do something to piss Dukat off. To get his anger, to steal it, to own it since it seemed anger was all Weyoun had right now. It’s how he ended up with his hand on Damar’s thigh. Damar had stopped talking and tensed under Weyoun’s touch. Dukat was saying something but his eyes were still on Keevan. That son of a bitch, ignoring him, for what? A newer, less broken toy. One he hadn’t crushed and warped yet. He moved his hand farther up Damar’s thigh, the sound of his breath deepening barely reaching Weyoun as he kept his eyes on Dukat. Daring him to look over and see what he was doing. Eventually he ran out of thigh and ran his soft hand between Damar’s legs. That had Damar standing right out of his chair.

“I’m going to head out, I want to call my family tonight.” Damar said in way of excusing his sudden leap out of his seat.

That son of bitch hadn’t even glanced over, “Alright would you escort Weyoun back to my quarters?” They had barely been here over an hour.

“I think it’d be best..” Damar started before he was interrupted.

Dukat turned to look at Damar, “I asked YOU to do it Damar.” His eyes intense.

“Yes sir.” The sir had Weyoun briefly tense up.

Climbing out of his own chair he followed Damar out of the bar. His body moving on automatic as his thoughts were still in the bar, with Dukat. Once in the habitat ring Weyoun’s thoughts returned to the present. Eyes on Damar’s back, still angry at Dukat, still wanting to piss him off. Damar stopped outside Dukat’s quarters, his eyes on Weyoun as he approached. It was easy enough, he’d done this with Dukat plenty of times to have it programmed into him. Hands running up Damar’s chest he looked up at him.

“Why don’t you join me tonight?” Weyoun asked, his voice soft, fingers tracing his ridges.

He wanted to piss of Dukat yes but he also wanted to avoid a repeat of last night. And what better way to ensure it doesn’t happen than by having Damar over.

“Is that what you want?” Damar asked, his tone odd.

“Yes.” Weyoun answered eyes hooded.

Damar backed him into the wall. Chest spur grinding into him as hands gripped his wrists tightly, painfully. Damar’s bigger stronger body trapping him.

“Is this what you want?” He asked his tone turning darker.

“Yes,” Uncertainty in Weyoun’s voice.

Knee forced itself between Weyoun’s legs. Pushing up, sliding him up the wall to be eye level with Damar. That spur dragging a line of pain down his chest. One hand releasing his wrist to grip his face and make him look at Damar. When had his eyes drifted to the floor?

“Is THIS what you want Weyoun?” He asked again, voice harsh.

“Yes,” Weyoun whined.

Pressure building in his face. Tears were threatening to come out. Damar was staring into his eyes.

“You’ll say yes no matter what I do won’t you?” Damar’s voice was softer now.

A shakey breath and a tear escaped. How fucking dare he. How dare Damar of all people feel sorry for him.

“What the hell has he done to you?” Damar backed off setting him back down, pity obvious in his voice.

Weyoun hated it, “Don’t act like you don’t know.” As if he could serve under Dukat for how many decades without knowing what Dukat was?

“Hey,” That seemed to annoy him. Good, “I didn’t know what they were like before he meet them.” At least that’s not a complete denial.

“Well I’m very sorry this is causing you such a hassle Damar.” The bitterness heavy in Weyoun’s voice, “This must be so hard for you to have to see the full picture of who Dukat is. I bet that’s gonna make licking his boots so much harder for you.”

Damar smacked him on the face, “Shut up Weyoun. By the union you’re infuriating how he tolerates spending so much time with you I’ll never know.” The burning in his face felt good.

It made him feel a little bit more whole inside, “Usually because he just fucks me.” Weyoun straightened his stance, “Now are YOU gonna fuck me or not?” Weyoun asked his eyes glaring at Damar.

The desire to do something to piss off Dukat still what he wanted most right now. And Damar was still the easiest way to do that. Damar’s eyes ran over him, assessing him. Like he’d never actually looked at him before. 

“Are you gonna tell him about it?” Damar asked, eyes landing back on his face.

Weyoun smirked, “Not unless you do.” Weyoun answered his posture straightening, “Shall we?” Weyoun walked into Dukat’s quarters first.

The sound of Damar following behind him. Walking directly to the couch he pulled off his clothes. Looking over Damar stood near him, watching him. He liked to be watched, the desire clear on Damar’s face.

“Well?” Weyoun asked leaning on his elbows completely naked.

Damar huffed before climbing on top of him. He didn’t take his boots or pants off just pulled them down.

“I want it to be clear that I’m not doing this cause I like you. I hate you.” Damar said leaning over him.

One hand running over Weyoun’s body, “The feelings mutual.” Weyoun replied staring up at him.

Legs moving up to wrap around Damar’s waist and pull him down, into him. Like he did with Dukat just a few days ago on this same couch. He hopes the scent lingers so Dukat will know. Weyoun wasn’t very aroused. If anything this felt much more like his previous sexual encounters before Dukat. There was something welcoming in that. Damar was wider than Dukat. It seemed odd that he had enough experience now to compare. Damar’s hands were on his hips pulling him onto him. His rhythm steady but not controlling like Dukat’s usually is. When Weyoun would move Damar would adjust for him not against him. They were moving together and despite hating him Weyoun felt his arousal growing. He reached up to pull Damar down. Arms around his neck. Damar’s armor grating against his soft skin.

“Fuck me Damar.” He whispered into his ear.

It seemed to encourage him. His thrusts getting a little faster, a little deeper. Weyoun thrust back. 

Moaning, “Fuck me.”

Damar grunted. Pressing into him harder the pain of his armor combining with Weyoun’s arousal in the most amazing way.

“Fuck me.” His voice getting louder.

They were hate fucking. That’s what was happening and Weyoun was loving it. It was so simple and clear. Good old reliable Damar. He never lied about his feelings. Damar had let him know right away how much he hated him. And right now he needed that. The simplicity of an honest fucking. Because fuck him, fuck Dukat, fuck this whole thing. Why can’t Weyoun have something? Even if it’s hate. Hate at least feels good and it’s his. He was getting close. Damar was bullheaded even in the bedroom. It was so refreshing how honestly Damar hated him.

“Fuck me.” Weyoun moaned out.

It was coming he could feel it. The oncoming wave that would crash through his entire body. Good old reliable Damar moving with him, meeting his hate with his own. Damar grunting above him.

“Fuck me Damar.” He called out right before he came.

His voice extended the last syllable into a whine as that heat spread through his entire body. Feeling him tighten around him Damar pulled out. Leaning back he stared down at Weyoun while he masturbated above him. Weyoun still in the high of it all reached down. Pads of his fingers sliding down Damar’s stroking hand to put two fingers into Damar’s ajan. He rubbed up at the underside of his prUt. Damar groaned as he came on Weyoun’s stomach. Weyoun’s fingers stroked him through it. Inverting Weyoun removed his fingers and watched Damar stand back up. Hands putting his clothes back in order.

“Is that what you wanted?” Damar asked from above him. his voice husky. 

“Yes thank you Damar. We’re finished here.” He dismissed him.

Damar grunted in acknowledgment as he turned to leave. For a moment there Weyoun had felt like himself. Like his old self, before he woke up in this body. How he wished he could hold onto that feeling.

End of Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last few chapters still need a bit of work but are done so I should be wrapping it up in the next few days.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: non consensual drug use

Weyoun had cleaned himself up and went to sleep in his bed. As much as he wanted to piss off Dukat he didn’t want the evidence to be too obvious. He did tell Damar he wouldn’t tell and he hadn’t lied about that. Laying in his single bed he drifted in and out of sleep. At one point he woke up to sounds outside. Not voices, sounds, a rhythmic one. Light was coming in from the main room tonight. The thought of just rolling over, pretending he didn’t hear what was going one went through his head. But that’d be the same sort of lie as pretending Dukat hadn’t strangled him. He’d only be lying to himself and that is the most dangerous sort of lie. The kind of lie that slowly corrodes you from the inside. Weakening you like when metal starts to rust till you start to break apart. So fuck that, Weyoun got up, anger still in him and walked out of his room.

The first thing he noticed was the smell of sex. It was different being on the outside of it instead of in the center of that scent. The second was the sight of Dukat fucking Keevan into the couch where Damar had just fucked him. Weyoun felt some satisfaction in that. Keevan noticed him first. Being under Dukat he was facing him, he tensed and tried to push Dukat off of him. Dukat placed a hand on Keevan’s chest to keep him down before sitting up. Weyoun could see that Dukat was as deep as the position would allow into Keevan as he turned a bit towards him.

That smug fucking smile, “Weyoun did we wake you?”He asked that question so casually while dick deep in Keevan.

“I believe I asked you to tell me ahead of time if we were going to have guests.” Weyoun replied not in the mood to deal with his nonchalance right now.

“And I said I’d keep it in mind. And in my mind it doesn’t really matter.” Keevan’s eyes were rolling around the room unfocused, he didn’t look all there, “What’s one Vorta to another.” That black bubbling rage inside of him burst.

Focus so intent he didn’t notice he’d crossed the room till he felt the sting in his hand. He’d slapped Dukat hard in the face. Dukat’s expression morphed in the time it took Weyoun’s other hand to raise. Hand grabbing his wrist, squeezing it. His eyes were dark, pleased with seeing Weyoun crumble under him grinding the bones of his wrist together. The son of a bitch.

Other hand still keeping Keevan pinned, “Now Weyoun this is no time for your hysterics.”

Hysterics? HYSTERICS! He’d show him hysterical!

Reaching up with a growl he didn’t know he was capable of he scratched at Dukat’s face with his other hand. A hiss came out of his mouth as he leaned away from Weyoun’s blunt nails. Dukat sighed, like Weyoun was throwing a temper tantrum. Instead of being reasonably enraged at him assaulting what looked like a drugged Keevan. Other hand coming up to grab his other wrist Keevan slid out form under him. Dukat turned his full attention to Weyoun, both wrists in hand, completely naked he backed him into the window. Weyoun tried to kick at him but Dukat has hand to hand experience and training while Weyoun has none. The sound of the door opening was lost on them as Weyoun headbutted Dukat. Getting him in the mouth he felt teeth scrap against his forehead. Dukat gasped before shoving Weyoun into the window.

Still too angry to think straight he tackled Dukat. It must have surprised him, Weyoun would later think. But if Weyoun had been more aware of what was happening around him he would have seen how one of the chairs for the Korta table dragged itself by an unknown force to trip Dukat. If he’d been more aware of himself he’d have felt an odd surge of energy and a brief flash of blue that over took the black and white tinge the world was in from his overwhelming rage. But he wasn’t aware so he didn’t notice or care only that Dukat was on the ground where he wanted him. Climbing up him Weyoun tried to get a hold of his wrists. 

Unfortunately for Weyoun Dukat was much stronger and quickly pinned his arms to his sides. With them chest to chest Weyoun bit at Dukat’s jaw. Dukat groaned and the arms around Weyoun pulled him closer causing him to rub against his everted prUt. Dukat jerked his face out of Weyoun’s mouth by leaning back with his long neck. Both of them panting heavily. Tightening his hold on Weyoun the crushing pain stopped Weyoun scratching at his hips and seemed to pull him out of his anger. With Dukat finally holding him Weyoun leaned into Dukat, chin on his chest, his face looking up at him. His ridges were flushed and swollen, he felt Dukat’s breathing in his chest. A few drops of blood on his lips that he licked away. Looking farther up, Dukat was looking down at him his pupils blown wide.

Coming down from his anger and adrenaline Weyoun felt a sort of euphoria. It was different than the feeling but still felt good. It tingled under his skin and made him feel a little light headed. Thoughts blank as he was absorbed by sensation. Keeping eye contact he moved down to kiss at Dukat’s Chula. Dukat groaned arms loosening so a hand could grab at the back of Weyoun’s head and pull him in for a violent kiss. Weyoun could taste blood in Dukat’s mouth. He probably had loosened a tooth with his headbutt but that didn’t matter. Weyoun bit Dukat’s upper lip, a strange sort sound vibrated out of Dukat’s throat. It wasn’t quite the rumbling more like a strange deep hiss. Dukat bit him back much harder. Weyoun whined as he felt those teeth break through the delicate skin of his lower lip. Claws on the back of his head scratched downwards till he was could grab his neck.

Remembering his own hands Weyoun reached between them. Dukat groaned as he ran his much warmer skin down his prUt. Sliding two fingers into Dukat’s ajan he gave a slight cry and thrust of his hips before tossing Weyoun onto the floor. Weyoun went about pulling off his shirt as he felt Dukat pulling at his pants. He could hear the fabric ripping under the stress. Naked enough Dukat pulled him under him, large hands wrapping around his calves to pull them up on his shoulders. Leaning down to enter him he had Weyoun almost bent in half. Weyoun cried out as the new angle meant for deeper more forceful movements.

He tried to grip at the ground as Dukat went at a brutal pace. He could feel each crash of their bodies meeting deep into the meat of his thighs. Weyoun moved to put his elbows under him. Leaning up Dukat leaned down a little farther, Weyoun’s felt the stretch in his legs. Eyes dark Dukat stretched out his tongue to lick up Weyoun’s throat. No doubt he felt the moan there. They were kissing again much less violently. The movement making it impossible to avoid his teeth touching Dukat’s tongue. Hissing at the threat of them Dukat pulled back to lick at the blood on his forehead where his teeth had collided with him during the headbutt. It was right where his Chufa would be if he was Cardassian. Parting with a kiss there, the brutal pace in combination with that tingling euphoria grew too much for Weyoun. He came with a cry, Dukat pausing his movements to kiss at his bleeding lip. With several harsh grinds, like Dukat was trying to force him to meld into the floor he came into him. The sound he made was a deep reverberating one. It passed into Weyoun like Dukat’s seed.

Suddenly too sore, too sweaty, too confined Weyoun planted his feet on Dukat’s heaving shoulders and kicked him away. They both laid there catching their breaths. Dukat was the first to get up. He stepped so he was over Weyoun. One foot slowly rising to rest on Weyoun’s heaving chest.

“I’m not sure what’s gotten into you Weyoun.” He slowly started to press down on his ribs.

Weyoun let out a whine, “Dukat?”

“Don’t be too concerned I like it when you act this way.” The pressure of his foot still increasing, “Just don’t let yourself get carried away.” He bent over so he was Weyoun’s entire world, “Because I only have so much patience and my enjoyment of you can only go so far. And we wouldn’t want me to stop enjoying you now would we Weyoun?” He asked his tone showing how much he liked watching Weyoun squirm under him.

“No sir.” He breathed out.

Dukat smiled, “Good.” He removed his foot.

The pressure gone Weyoun could finally breath again. He went to grab at his clothes.

“Leave them till tomorrow we’re going to bed.” Dukat ordered grabbing his wrist to pull him behind him.

In bed Weyoun was both physically and emotionally exhausted. His fight fucking and anger had used up a lot of his energy. Sleep for him that night was still difficult. Going in and out of sleep it felt like his dreams were following him into the waking world. When Dukat’s alarm went off he went about his usual morning routine. Dermal regenerator in hand he began repairing the damage they did to each other. Thumb on his scabbing swollen lip.

“Why don’t you leave it?” Weyoun asked.

Dukat took a deep breath, his pupils expanding, “Not this one, it’s a bit too conspicuous. I can always give you ones just for you later.” Dukat said healing the wounds on his face.

Of course he’d assume it’s some sort of sexual thing or take it as marking his territory. Weyoun just wanted something physical to remind himself later. When Dukat will no doubt act like they didn’t just fight then fuck violently last night. Leaving him alone Weyoun went about cleaning up after last night. It took him longer than it usually did because he didn’t like cleaning up after Dukat. It made him feel lesser. But he still did it and finally sat down with a deep breath in his room. Grabbing his padd from the nightstand.

‘I’ve heard back from my contact on Bajor.’ -K

It was dated yesterday. That’s right he hadn’t checked it at all yesterday.

‘What did they say?’ -W

Weyoun sat staring at his padd. It took fifteen minutes for Keevan to respond.

‘They wanted to know what our plans are before they’ll make a move to help us.’ -K

‘I’d also really appreciate if you’d keep me out of your weird sex rituals with Dukat.’ -K

‘I had no say in that.’ -W

‘You think I have any control over Dukat?’ -W

‘Well you certainly aren’t trying.’ -K

‘No wonder you failed as representative.’ -K

‘Fuck you Keevan it’s not like you’re doing any better.’ -W

‘Don’t judge me.’ -K

‘I’m trying to manage this WITHOUT your help so maybe keep your judgments to yourself.’ -K

‘What do you mean without my help? I’ve been helping you every step of the way. Would you rather I stop interfering when Dukat brings you over?’ -W

Keevan didn’t respond till well after Dukat’s lunch hour.

‘So what are our plans? I certainly don’t want to stay here.’ -K

Oh just gonna act like that conversation didn’t happen huh? 

‘Well you dealt with the Federation would they be a good place to ask for protection?’ -W

‘Protection? From the Federation? No they traded me the first chance they had. I begged them not to take me back to the Dominion but they did anyways. Asking them to protect us is pointless unless we have something to ensure it.’ -K

‘And Bajor is technically under the Dominion right now. I doubt they’d be able or willing to harbor us.’ -W

‘We don’t have a lot of options here.’ -K

‘What about us fully ensuring a bargaining chip with the Federation first?’ -W

‘How would we do that?’ -K

‘Remove the force behind the Dominion.’ -W

‘As in eliminate the Jem’Hadar?’ -K

‘In a sense. You said that the other Vorta were willing to support a rebellion before it was sabotaged.’ -W

‘And the Jem’Hadar have been having regular renegades and revolts since I can remember. I bet most of them would back us if we went through with it.’ -W

‘Your serious aren’t you?” -K

‘Do we have any other options besides hoping to escape into uncharted space and hoping no one finds us?’ -W

‘If this fails we’ll be ruined.’ -K

‘Aren’t we ruined already? There isn’t much lower I can be brought and you are on thin ice after your cavorting with the Federation.’ -W

‘At the very least it’ll settle things, for us anyway.’ -W

‘You have a point. I’m gonna see what response I get from the rest of the Vorta and Jem’Hadar. I don’t think this will work but I’m tired Weyoun. I’d rather it be over no matter the outcome than continue this way.’ -K

‘I understand. Keep me updated on what you hear back.’ -W

‘And Keevan. I am trying to help, with Dukat, I’m sorry it’s not enough.’ -W

‘If your help is not working than I’d rather you didn’t. At least then I only have to blame myself. I’d rather not speak of it anymore.’ -K

Weyoun didn’t know what to say to that so he said nothing. Dukat came in a few hours after his shift. It was late and he was already a little tipsy but still wanting to go to Quark’s. Why he insisted on taking him if he was only going to abandon him at the first chance he got was beyond Weyoun’s comprehension. And like the two previous times it didn’t take long for Dukat to loose interest in both Damar and Weyoun. No wonder Damar is such a creature of habit. Weyoun used to think Dukat was less predictable than this. The difference being this time was that when Dukat approached Keevan he didn’t shy away. It hurt to watch. Seeing Keevan give in. Following Dukat out of the bar Weyoun and Damar forgotten. Weyoun felt like a failure as a Vorta all over again.

End of Chapter 14


	15. Chapter 15

Damar didn’t want to leave till he finished the bottle Quark had given him. Weyoun didn’t mind he was feeling terrible and after his third drink he wasn’t feeling too much better or worse. Asking Quark for his strongest stuff seemed to have helped. Seems the Vorta immune system didn’t attack alcohol quite as much as other toxins. At the very least Weyoun wasn’t lost in his thoughts like he usually was. Walking to the habitat ring Damar was stumbling a bit. When they reached Dukat’s quarters he was feeling a little hesitant. The door opened and Dukat wasn’t there. No sounds were coming out of his quarters. It was clear to Weyoun where he was spending the night.

“Why don’t I go with you tonight Damar?” He asked touching Damar’s arm to get his attention.

“I doubt Dukat would like you not being here when he gets back.” Damar said pulling away from Weyoun.

“I doubt he’s gonna be back tonight and I’d rather not be alone.” Weyoun was feeling vulnerable and hated it.

He really didn’t want this escalating back and forth with Dukat to keep going. And if Keevan didn’t want his help than the very least he can do is help himself. Damar looked over at him for a long moment. Weyoun squirmed not used to Damar paying attention to him beyond a passing glare.

Damar sighed, “I better not end up regretting this Weyoun.” He slurred out before turning down the hall.

Following him Damar’s quarters were only a few doors down. He was Dukat’s second and a Gul now after all. The first thing he noticed was that Damar’s place was a mess. If there was one thing he could give that son of a bitch Dukat he was at least tidy. There wasn’t a single surface that didn’t have bottles, glasses, plates or padds on it. How many padds could one person need? He didn’t remember Damar’s place being this bad during Weyoun 5’s time. Not that he went into his quarters but he’d seen the inside a few times when he’d drop by to get the surprise on Damar. 

“Are you coming or what?” Damar called from inside.

Despite his disgust he followed. He may hate Damar but he would hate being by himself more. Damar pulled off his armor and dropped it on the couch. Boots kicked away as he walked towards the bedroom. Weyoun a bit behind him to avoid tripping over them. Damar’s bedroom wasn’t any better. In fact it was worse because there were clothes all over the floor. How long has Damar been spiraling like this? Weyoun 5 had noticed a dip in his work before his death and it seemed killing him hadn’t fixed whatever is bothering him. He can only imagine what his work output is like now. If he were still representative he’d be having a firm talking to with Dukat. Except he wasn’t, Keevan was and he was pretty sure they weren’t talking right now in Keevan’s quarters.

Undoing his own shoes he sat them and his clothes on the one uncovered corner of the dresser. Naked he climbed onto the bed Damar was finishing getting his own clothes off. He was much broader than Dukat. Turning to him he had a little extra fat on his belly and waist his waist but had a lot of muscle in his arms and shoulders. When Dukat was out of his armor it made him look more lean, sleek. Damar on the other hand was broad even without his armor. It reminded him more of large overpowering predators to Dukat’s more slippery constricting strength. 

Damar pulled him to the center of the bed. Rolling him over so he was on all fours. Briefly one hand explored him before pressing into him. Damar grunted as Weyoun flexed around him. Hands on his hips they began moving. Weyoun not really aroused at all but he wasn’t here because he wanted an orgasm. He was here because he didn’t want to be alone. Like last time Damar didn’t hinder Weyoun’s movements and let him move back into him. Lowering himself onto his elbow he reached down with his right hand. Damar moaned at the contact of his fingers on the sides of his prUt. Weyoun was rubbing himself, having never had much chance in the past. It helped more than he’d expected. Damar’s steady pace as reliable as last time. Heat was coursing through Weyoun, licking at his flesh from the inside. It was so much easier to get lost in than it’s been since he woke up in this body.

Good old reliable Damar moving with Weyoun as they kept a steady but not overwhelming pace. It built up Weyoun slowly, steadily. Making it easy for Weyoun to know exactly when he was gonna cum so he could rub onto Damar in just the right way to make it a little better as he reached it. Feeling him tense under him and hearing him groan Damar pulled out.

“Let me see you use that tongue you love waggling so much to wrap around my Cho’Ch.” Damar said as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Still in a bit of the afterglow Weyoun that insult got a laugh out of him. He kicked away the clothes on the floor so he could kneel between Damar’s legs. Hands rubbing at his thighs he looked up. Without even touching him yet Damar moaned, prUt twitching. It was obvious this was something Damar has wanted to do for a long while. He smirked up at him. When he was with Dukat he always felt powerless, like he was gonna snap under him. With Damar he felt like the one in control, like he had some sway over him. Keeping eye contact he licked from the bottom of his ajan all the way to the tip of his prUt.

“Fuck.” Damar said hotly, leaning back a bit.

Weyoun kissed the tip before rubbing two fingers at the bottom of his ajan. Teasing at the entrance. Damar rolled his hips into the movement. Looking back up he watched Damar’s face as he took him into his mouth in one motion. Damar groaned out of gritted teeth. While not especially long Damar was thicker than he was used to. He could tell it was gonna strain his jaw if he didn’t keep pace.

“You look so good sucking my Cho’Ch.” He moaned out, hand in his hair more holding than directing.

Keeping his focus around the base Damar would clench and unclench his hand in time with his sucking. When he’d unclench he’d lightly stroke his hair usually with that reverberating pleased sound accompanying it. His sounded deeper than Weyoun was expecting. Pressing those two fingers into his ajan Weyoun pulled his mouth off. Damar’s thighs tensed under his hand. Leaning down he licked and sucked at the bottom of his prUt so his tongue would lightly dip into where his fingers were stroking. He could feel Damar getting close by the rhythm of his hands in his hair.

“Stop.” Damar breathed out.

Pulling his mouth and fingers away Damar gripped his prUt.

“Open your mouth.” Damar ordered.

Raising a brow but doing as he was told Damar rubbed himself along Weyoun’s open mouth.

“Fuck” was what he’d breath out every few strokes before he came onto his tongue with a “Fuck, Weyoun.” 

Weyoun kept eye contact and watched as Damar came. Damar’s face contorting into what would normally be a hilarious expression. It had a strange sort of power to it that Weyoun liked. He didn’t have much power in his life anymore so why not take it where he can. Keeping his eyes on Damar’s face he rolled his tongue back into his mouth and gave a kiss to his inverting prUt before swallowing. Damar was petting his hair.

“That almost makes up for how annoying your voice is.” Damar said sliding back onto the bed, “Are you staying the night or do you want me to take you back now?” Damar asked.

Weyoun was a little concerned about whether Dukat would come home in the middle of the night but not enough to want to risk spending the night alone or worse having a frustrated Dukat come home, “I’ll be staying the night. Dukat usually stays over when he goes to Keevan’s. Just make sure to drop me off before your shift.” Weyoun answered.

Damar grunted in acknowledgment as he grabbed the sheets off the floor to throw them over the both of them. He rolled over and was out in about 15 minutes. Oddly enough Weyoun didn’t have trouble sleeping that night he didn’t even wake up once alarmed. Till the alarm went off of course. They went about dressing as efficiently as possible Damar’s hygiene seemed to also be suffering from his spiraling since he didn’t smell like he took a shower when he came back from the bathroom. 

Making sure he made it to Dukat’s quarters Weyoun wasn’t sure if he was relieved or annoyed that Dukat wasn’t waiting for him. Why does Weyoun always have to be the one waiting on him? The answer was obvious, he was property. But that didn’t mean he liked it. Why couldn’t Dukat have a taste of his own medicine for once? He cleaned himself up making sure to put his clothes through the refresher. A Cardassian’s sense of smell was better than his and he’d like to keep his side fucking subtle, for now. He got his padd while he ate to see a new message from Keevan.

‘I’ve been through the anonymous channels. The Jem’Hadar are very eager to have Vorta backing and I’ve seen only a few negatives from other Vorta. If these numbers hold we might have a decent chance here.’ -K

‘Alright so what? We contact the Federation and Bajor with how we have Jem’Hadar and Vorta support to leave the Dominion?’ -W

‘Basically. They’ll probably want to hash out the details. I could keep you updated every step or just contact you when we’ve come to a more unified decision?’ -K

‘I’d rather you wait to ask me after there’s a more solid plan. This padd isn’t locked and I worry about Dukat finding it.’ -W

‘Alright I’ll let you know after I’ve discussed it with them.’ -K

Dukat came home for lunch. He was back to his more jovial self. Seemed his night with Keevan had cooled him some, at least for now. Happily chatting away Weyoun felt a perverted glee at knowing he was fucking Damar so blatantly behind Dukat’s back. They hadn’t run into anyone this morning but there was a thrill in not doing much to hide it. It made Dukat look especially foolish. He was a fool and it felt good to have something to remind himself of that. Though the fact he hadn’t noticed his smell all over Damar either showed that Damar did at least clean himself up at some point before going on his shift. Or they aren’t working nearly as closely together as they used to. It’d explain why their bar chats were more about work than reminiscing these days. With a kiss Dukat left for the rest of his shift. Weyoun didn’ hear from Keevan during that time.

That night Dukat stayed in. Fucked him well enough, his pleased mood still in place. Weyoun was almost giddy with all these secrets in him. It felt good. Like how Weyoun 5 was with all of his secrets and plots. Except this was simultaneously bigger and smaller. Whether they were able to succeed in getting Federation support for the Vorta and Jem’Hadar to separate from the Dominion was huge. While fucking Damar behind Dukat’s back was small, petty even. And if Weyoun was anything he was petty.

It in fact took four days before Keevan contacted him again. In that time Dukat had spent one night at Keevan’s giving Weyoun another chance to fuck Damar.

‘We’ve mostly settled on a plan ready to hear it?’ -K

‘Yes.’ -W

‘The plan is for the Federation to come in force with Bajoran support around the station. The Jem’Hadar ships will assist in attacking the Cardassian and Breen vessels while the Jem’hadar here will take the station. With the main Dominion force being Jem’Hadar we suspect the Breen and Cardassian forces will quickly fold once they realize what’s happening. And with the station secured by on site Jem’Hadar it will make for a quick reclaiming of control of the wormhole.’ -K

‘That actually sounds like a great plan with the minimum loss of life and resources. When can they do it?’ -W

‘That’s the Federation for you, they only care about loss of life when they can ensure a win. Essentially we could implement this as soon as tomorrow. I know you’re out of the loop but they’ve been having the bulk of their forces near Bajoran space for weeks. It seems like they were already planning an assault we just happened to have a nice party platter for them.’ -K

‘That’s so soon.’ -W

Weyoun didn’t know what to feel. He felt a little dizzy with how quickly it had escalated and overwhelmed with the possibilities.

‘I for one would like this done with as soon as possible.’ -K

‘I agree. Better to know the outcome quickly than meander in uncertainty.’ -W

‘Alright I’ll inform them and finish the last minute arrangements. It’s likely the next time we see each other or speak will be after this all has settled.’ -K

‘So good luck Weyoun.’ -K

‘Good luck Keevan.’ -W

End of Chapter 15


	16. Chapter 16

The plans were set. Keevan would finalize everything. Tomorrow the Federation would attack with assistance from Bajoran forces, the Jem’Hadar would hand the station over to them and the he would be put in Federation hands same as Keevan.

That night when Dukat came home he felt an odd sort of peace. A peace that he was done letting Dukat have. Dukat came in talking about how they should go out for dinner tonight.

“I’ve been fucking Damar.” He interrupted him.

Dukat stopped talking. He turned towards him taking a few steps closer. “Is that so?” His eyes narrowed as he approached, “I’m surprised off all the things you choose to lie about that’s what you pick.”

SON OF A BITCH, “I’m not lying. When you were at Keevans the other night I was worshiping Damar’s Cho’Ch with my throat on this couch.” He responded casually.

“You expect me to believe Damar is fucking you?” His tone dismissive, “Damar hates you and he would never betray me. He’s been loyal to me longer than your last five lives combined.”

Now Weyoun was starting to get pissed, “Really? You hate me yet you fuck me all the time. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t noticed. If you and Damar are so close I don’t know how you couldn’t smell me on him. Is it that you like it? I can keep up the illusion if you want? If that gets you off knowing I suck off Damar while…”

That’s when Dukat hit him, smacked him open handed on the face. He could feel blood running down his nose but all he could do was smile.

“What’s the matter Dukat? Don’t like what I’m saying?” He didn’t wipe the blood away as he stepped closer to run his hands over Dukat’s heaving chest, “If you want you could watch next time. I’m sure Damar won’t mind you...”

Dukat shoved him back onto the couch. Crawling on top of him Dukat’s face was enraged. Good. 

“You think you can play games with me Weyoun?” Dukat grabbed his throat, “I think you’ve forgotten your position here.”

Dukat dragged Weyoun down farther so Dukat was kneeling over his chest. Pulling his pants down he yanked Weyoun’s face up.

His prUt wasn’t everted, “Since you love sucking Cho’Ch so much.” He pried Weyoun’s mouth open, “You can suck mine, it’s all you’re good for.” Dukat’s tone was degrading. 

But Weyoun wasn’t bothered. He stared up at him the defiance obvious in his eyes. His grip on his throat tightened. Rubbing his ajan against his mouth he started everting into it. Smooth muscle sliding over his teeth and palate. He didn’t wrap his lips around it.

The anger was blazing out of Dukat’s eyes, “It looks like I’ve let this attitude of yours go for too long Weyoun.” He thrust into his mouth, Weyoun still glaring up at him, “I think you won’t be leaving these rooms for a very long time.” 

Weyoun was honestly more bored than anything. Dukat must have seen the boredom in his eyes because he climbed off of him. Pulling him up by the hair he dragged him to the bedroom. Kicking off his boots and pants he kept his breastplate on. Weyoun ignored him by examining his nails. Shoving him down Dukat ripped off his pants. The sigh of annoyance Weyoun let out just seemed to piss him off more. Weyoun was enjoying Dukat’s anger. 

Climbing over him pressing them chest to chest so the spur would grind into his skin he thrust into him.

Weyoun’s eyes were still examining his nails, completely uninterested in what Dukat was doing, “STOP,” thrust, “IGNORING,” thrust, “ME!”

The pain from the chest spur inflaming his skin was there. The pain from him crushing him was there. But Weyoun didn’t notice. He only noticed how Dukat was throwing a temper tantrum for being ignored for less than a minute so he laughed. Dukat paused at the sound.

“Stop it.” His voice sounded smaller, face widened with outrage. Weyoun kept laughing.

“Stop it.” He repeated, his tone getting whinier which just made Weyoun laugh harder.

“STOP LAUGHING AT ME.” Dukat yelled into his face.

But he didn’t stop he just kept laughing. Dukat pulled out and stared down at him, vibrating with anger.

Weyoun’s laughter began to wain, Dukat’s prUt inverted back into him, “Ah poor Dukat!” He mocked him, “Is your little pet not behaving the way you want? How ever will you manage to keep your ego up without it?” Dukat looked at him like he’d never seen him before.

He took a step back, then another before he ended up outside the bedroom. Loud crashing and yelling reverberated through the walls before Weyoun heard the main doors to Dukat’s quarters open then close. Finally he was alone. He could feel his throat swelling. Wiping the blood away from his face all he could do was smile. Fuck Dukat, that son of a bitch. He didn’t see him for the rest of the night. He slept in his own bed, alone till morning. When he woke up he should have felt excited, elated, anything but he felt emptiness more than anything.

Even knowing it was coming it felt rather anti-climactic. Weyoun was in Dukat’s quarters, like he usually was during Dukat’s shifts. He wasn’t bothering to clean up the broken furniture Dukat broke last night. It’s not like he’d be here to face the consequences either way. Then he felt it before he saw it. Blasts hitting the shields. Ships, Federation ships outside the station. Weyoun knew he should be feeling something but he felt empty. He rationalized it by thinking how it was better to not get too excited if this doesn’t go well. In his defense he had the experience of it not going well. It hadn’t for Weyoun 6 not that he remembered it. All he could do was wait and see. Weyoun’s part in this had already been done, same with Keevan’s . It was the Federation, Bajor’s and Jem’Hadar’s move now. There was a lot depending on the Jem’Hadar staying true to their word.

Which Weyoun didn’t expect them to betray. It’s not like them to lie, they have no reason to with so little time available to them. Seeing as there wasn’t much for him to do he decided he might as well go somewhere else. Whether this works or not the evidence of his involvement won’t be deniable. So he leaves. Odd after desperately wanting to be able to go anywhere else that the chance he finally can use his preciously saved chance with the broken door he doesn’t feel any sort of satisfaction in it. 

There doesn’t seem to be anyone in the habitat ring. Everyone on site are soldiers so of course they’d be out fighting. His pace is unhurried as he heads to the Promenade. Before he reaches it he hears the phaser fire, which is to be expected. Going into the space The Jem’Hadar seemed to have the Cardassian soldiers pinned from above. One of the Cardassian soldiers sees him. It seems now was the time Weyoun’s emotions decided to catch up with him because he took a panicked step back. Unfortunately said soldier dodged the fire from above and followed him into the hall.

“Come here Vorta.” He called to him phaser pointed at him, “I’m sure you had a hand in this. Your conniving isn’t gonna save you this time.” The taunts followed him as he ran.

The curved halls saving him from the soldier having a direct line of site on him. Looking behind himself to keep an eye for the soldier following him there was no way for him to avoid running directly into the Cardassian breastplate in his way. He was immediately pushed into a wall, his eyes trying to focus as he heard the sound of a phaser. Looking up Glinn Khet had a hand holding him to the wall. The other holding a phaser pointed at the soldier who was now on the ground. The Glinn released him before his entire body shimmered.

Odo now stood there, “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more before now.” His tone apologetic, “I couldn’t afford to break my cover.” Odo was here! He’d been the one looking out for him?

“Don’t be sorry you have nothing to apologize for.” Weyoun felt so happy to see him it felt like he was going to burst.

Odo harrumphed at that, “I see captivity hasn’t changed you to much. Here,” Odo stepped closer to him, “Let’s take this off.” He unlatched the collar around his neck, “You don’t belong to anyone anymore.” Then tossed it down the hall, “It shouldn’t take long for the Jem’Hadar to finish subduing the Cardassian and Breen soldiers.” He noted, “Will you be able to stay out of trouble on your own?” Odo asked him.

“Yes I just wanted to be somewhere else besides Dukat’s quarters.” Weyoun couldn’t stop staring at Odo.

“Understandable. Keevan had been on the Promenade when this started, Dukat’s in his office. I’m sure you could hide in Quark’s.” The sound of phaser fire had subsided to silence as they had talked, “The fighting is done which means the Jem’Hadar have gotten the Promenade under control.” Odo updated him, “I’m going to head to Ops, try to keep out of trouble.” Odo shimmered back into Glinn Khet before walking away.

It seemed Weyoun had missed out on a lot if Odo has managed to grasp how to do humanoids. Had that week with Weyoun 6 really effected that much? Or is this development more recent? It was hard to believe Weyoun’s actions could affect a god. Following Odo’s advice he headed to Quark’s. His assessment had been right the Jem’Hadar had the Promenade. Cardassians and Breen incapacitated. 

The first Jem’Hadar to see him gave him a respectful nod. “Vorta.” was all he said with none of the usual anger behind it.

Weyoun nodded back this felt very surreal. The Jem’Hadar didn’t look on the verge of violence like they usually did. They seemed just as accepting of whatever outcome was coming for them as he was. Maybe he’d underestimated their similarities before now? None of the Jem’Hadar he passed had the usual cruel, threatening stare. If anything he saw respect in their eyes. The Vorta had never rebelled before. It seemed they had finally done something worth respecting. Quark’s was empty except for the two Jem’Hadar guarding it. Weyoun could see Quark’s head sticking out over the bar. His eyes locking onto Weyoun as he walked in. Weyoun took a seat at the bar, he ordered his usual.

Standing up Quark had obvious fear in his voice, “What is going on? Why aren’t the Jem’Hadar killing everyone? Isn’t that what they do when they’re out of white?” Despite his fear he seemed to be pouring Weyoun’s drink as if on autopilot.

“This isn’t about the white. The Jem’Hadar and Vorta are disbanding from The Dominion.” Weyoun answered.

“Why are you so calm about this?” Quark seemed very agitated.

“Because there’s nothing more I can do. Either we’ll be free or I’ll suffer a fate worse than I’ve ever experienced.” Weyoun took his drink.

The alcohol felt better now than it ever has before. Movement out of the corner of his eye attracted his attention. 

Keevan walked in, “May I join you?” He asked politely.

“Of course.” He gestured to the stool next to him.

Keevan ordered himself a drink as he sat down. Eyes glancing over at each other. Keevan assessing the finger prints on his neck while Weyoun noticed the scabbed over bite barely peeking out of his shirt. They didn’t say anything, there was nothing to be said. That’s how the Federation found them. Sitting quietly, drinking together. Nog and Kira were the first to enter Quark’s bar. Nog gave the Vorta an acknowledging nod before going to speak with his uncle. Kira approached them.

“Listen I’ve given you a hard time in the past, a hard time you deserved.” She started, “But I’m honestly very surprised and proud that you’ve managed to come this far.” Weyoun wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

So he decided to skip to something else, “If you go into Dukat’s office you should find an unlocked padd. He takes it with him when he works. It should hold some evidence I’m sure the Bajoran government has been wanting to confirm their suspicions about Dukat.” He stated calmly.

Kira gave him a look he couldn’t figure out the meaning of, “Sure.” She said before turning to leave.

From their vantage point in Quark’s they were able to watch the Federation soldiers escort their political prisoners out. Weyoun couldn’t stop himself from watching. His eyes scanning every face that passed. If he had been paying attention he would have noticed that Keevan was doing the same. The sound seemed to lower as he fixated on watching, keeping his eyes alert. Damar was the first face he noticed. There was an odd twisting feeling inside him at the sight. Which was all the warning he had for Dukat following suit. 

There was a brief moment that he wasn’t sure if Dukat actually saw him from that distance. But he felt like he did. Or at least Weyoun would liked to imagine he did. Because seeing him, in cuffs looking miserable was a memory he wanted to keep. Even if he felt nothing from it. After months of being warped by Dukat it seemed like Weyoun should feel more about this. But he felt nothing. It was over, yet it felt the same. Dukat was being taken away and he felt exactly the same. As if it meant nothing.

He was thankful for Keevan. Because he hardly noticed when Sisko arrived. His thoughts were elsewhere. Keevan went about talking with the Federation. Good. Weyoun was done. It was over. Weyoun, the Vorta and the Jem’Hadar were free and he didn’t feel any different. He’d successfully assisted in securing a future free of Dominion rule. But he didn’t feel any happier if anything he just felt tired.

End of The Games We Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have a sequel in the works. It's gonna be about Weyoun and Keevan after this in a Federation prison. I'll wanna have it mostly done before I start posting it so it'll be a bit.


End file.
